


You Can Count On Me

by Aquarius-Chronicles (Peep404)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abuse, Adventure, Angst and Feels, Blood, Death, Drama, Eridan swearing, F/M, Fluff, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Friendship, Gore (Minor), Hurt/Comfort, In my house we all swear, Karkat Swearing, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Other, POV Multiple, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Possibly AU, Probably a happy ending, Sad Eridan Ampora, Sadstuck, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Tension, Torture, Trauma, Troll terminology, no super graphic descriptions, sfw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:29:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24170605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peep404/pseuds/Aquarius-Chronicles
Summary: Trying not to think about it too much, you let out a heavy sigh, and head for LOWAA. Time to figure out once and for all what the deal is with that land.After his breakups with Feferi and Vriska, Eridan heads on a solo quest, convinced he has nothing to lose.
Relationships: Eridan Ampora/Karkat Vantas, Sollux Captor/Feferi Peixes
Comments: 61
Kudos: 116





	1. Nofin To Be Worried About

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Power the Dark Lord Knows Not](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2399816) by [RadioMoth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadioMoth/pseuds/RadioMoth). 



> Hiya! This is my first fanfic. Let me know what you think! Kudos and comments are v appreciated.  
> I have a pretty irregular schedule, but I will try to update this fanfic as regularly as I can, possibly biweekly.  
> [RadioMoth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadioMoth/profile) \- Thank you for inspiring me with your fanfic, [The Power the Dark Lord Knows Not](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2399816) !  
> (as well as 'Don't Listen to Them' and 'Pale As the Creatures of the Deep')  
> [sburbanite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sburbanite/profile) \- Thanks for the [handy pesterlog guide](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5391818/chapters/12520706#workskin)!

> BE ERIDAN AMPORA.

Your name is ERIDAN AMPORA and you are shocked to find a note on your doorstep (shipstep? Fuck if you know how it’s called). Strange – you would have thought that your lusus would detect such shenanigans and report them to you. Oh well. He _is_ getting kinda old, so you decide to let it slide and unfold the note to find cluckbeastscratch in cerulean. It reads:

Hey fishface!!!!!!!! When you’re done moping around like a wiggler, get your glutes over to the dock. I found something that might interest you. ::::)

You promptly scrunch up the note and toss it in the nearest offal drum with a scowl. Last time you showed up to such a "meeting", she said she found some ‘’cool b8’’ for you to use in your lusus hunts. You hoped to get something interesting out of that outing, be it the bait or an adventure (you knew kismessitude was too good to be true, you just knew it, but you still hoped), only to find the remains of a crewmate from the last ship of yours that Vriska sank. Not only did Vriska not show up, but she ignored your messages on Trollian for two wipes straight, only to finally show up and say that she did it “for your own good, when was the last time you left your hive????????’’ and that she “didn’t want you to get any ideas.’’, before blocking you. You gave up on ever having her in a quadrant, and have avoided her since.

In fact, you’ve pretty much avoided everyone. Who needs other trolls anyways? All they do is complain, groan, and roll their ganderbulbs at you, and you’re sick of it. Deep down, you know that you are a terrible liar and terribly lonely, but it’s become all too easy to just tell yourself lies and wall yourself away from the rest of the world. After all, life is easier to deal with when you’re the only one calling yourself names.

You glance backwards at your lusus once more, nodding to let him know you’ll be going out, and secure Ahab's Crosshairs on your back. He snorts at you and goes back to napping on his perch, acknowledging it. Good old seahorse dad. Best lusus. You linger a bit, observing his familiar form, and then close the doors to your shiphive with a decisive thud.

He’ll be fine. You left him more than enough food, and you won’t lock the doors, just in case. You have also fed Feferi’s lusus lately, so that won’t be an issue either. You will be back before anyone even notices you were gone. Or well, before your lusus does, at least.

Trying not to think about it too much, you let out a heavy sigh, and head for LOWAA. Time to figure out once and for all what the deal is with that land.

_______________________________________________________________________________

> BE KARKAT VANTAS.

Holy fuck you can’t believe this. Have the gruesome gods finally peered one gander bulb at you and decided to stop shovelling hoofbeastmanure in your direction? That’s simply unbelievable.

It’s been what, sixteen- SIXTEEN hours, and no one has disturbed you yet. You’ve cleaned your respiteblock and watched a season and a half worth of a troll rom-com (How I Encountered Your Lusus). Now it’s time to get under a snuggleplane and read until it gets too early, and then head to a recuperacoon. Is this what being literally any other troll is like? You might consider plugging off and not dealing with other trolls’ shit for a wipe or so. This is nice.

But of course, not even five pages in, your palmhusk lights up with a Trollian notification. You throw the book on the floor, chastising yourself for not setting your status to Offline. Can you not spend a night without one of these bulgelords interrupting it? You huff and side-eye the palmhusk. You COULD not pick it up and pretend you’re fast asleep in your recuperacoon, but your curiosity gets the best of you. You pick up the palmhusk and unlock it with a swipe; might as well see who it is that needs you so early in the morning. Maybe Sollux or Eridan.

You nearly drop it out of shock. FUCKING REALLY?

__________________________________________________________________________________

> BE VRISKA SERKET.

You cannot “be Vriska”, because you are already Vriska. Duh.

Things have been slow lately, so you decided to spice things up and message Ampora again. To your mild disappointment, he blocked you. Oh well. Maybe he finally grew a posture pole and stopped moping around.

You decide to message Karkat instead, who is miraculously awake and hasn’t blocked you yet.

\--  arachnidsGrip [AG] began pestering  carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 08:08 -- 

AG: Heeeeeeeey Crabby ::::)  
CG: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT.  
AG: That’s not very nice of you!  
CG: HOW DO I PUT THIS.  
CG: IF YOU SCOOPED OUT MY ENTIRE SPONGE THROUGH MY SNIFF NUB, FED IT TO A TROLL MISERABLE ENOUGH TO CROSS YOUR PATH, AND FED THAT TROLL TO YOUR LUSUS, THEN MAYBE I WOULD BELIEVE THAT THERE IS A FUCKING REASON WHY YOUR MESSAGE COULDN’T WAIT UNTIL EVENING.  
CG: SO LET ME ASK AGAIN.  
CG: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT.  
AG: Ahahahah! You are so funny.  
AG: I had to message you now because I could simply not s8 my curiosity.  
AG: Are you still a paleslut?  


There is a beat of silence. This is HILARIOUS. 

CG: DEPENDS. ARE YOU STILL A HUGE UNHINGED BITCH?  
AG: Awww Crabby, what a sad pitch attempt! Don’t get ahead of yourself though. You’re struggling enough with quadrants as is.  
CG: WHAT WAS THAT? I COULDN’T HEAR YOU OVER THE SOUND OF EXPELLING EVERYTHING OUT OF MY CHAGRIN TUNNEL OVER HERE.  
CG: AND WHAT DO YOU KNOW? YOUR NAME APPEARED ON THE BLOCK BUTTON. WEIRD.  
AG: Whatever, Crabby.  
AG: I just thought that you should maybe check on your fishy palecrush ::::)  


\--  carcinoGeneticist [CG] blocked  arachnidsGrip [AG] at 08:13 -- 

You smile and head upstairs. It’s been a great night, but it’s time to ‘coon yourself.

__________________________________________________________________________________

> BE KARKAT AGAIN.

But of fucking course! The moment you start to enjoy yourself, Her Insufferable Spiderbitch decides to catch up and shit all over the peaceful night you’ve had so far. You block her, set your status to Offline, log out of Trollian, put your palmhusk on silent, turn off your palmhusk, and toss it on your desk. You settle back on your loungeplank, readjust the snuggleplane, tucking in all the corners and edges until you’re completely snug in it (just like Crabdad used to do), and pick up the book. You are going to have a nice early morning read, and fuck if you’re letting anyone ruin it, even Vriska.

After fifteen minutes of reading the same six lines over and over again, you toss the book on the table. You curse loudly and turn your palmhusk on again, but Vriska is offline now. Great. You decide to message Eridan instead, and then head to your recuperacoon. There goes your self-care night, you guess.

\--  carcinoGeneticist [CG] began pestering  caligulasAquarium [CA] at 08:31 -- 

CG: HEY ASSHOLE.  
CG: WHAT’S UP?  
CG: WE HAVEN’T TALKED IN A WHILE.  
CG: I JUST THOUGHT  
CG: DOESN’T MATTER.  
CG: WRITE BACK WHEN YOUR VELVETY ROYAL RUMP DEIGNS TO LOOK AT MY MESSAGES.  


\--  carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased pestering  caligulasAquarium [CA] at 08:35 -- 


	2. Anglerfish and Anxiety

> BE ERIDAN AMPORA.

You check the time on your palmhusk and then click on the Trollian icon. There’s no reception in LOWAA - figures, it’s all churches and depression up here. What could possibly provide Wi-Fi anyways, the fucking gargoyles? You hate this place.  
You move stealthily, carefully making your way through the barren land. Every sound is muffled here anyways, but angels have impeccable hearing. The silence is oppressive and weighs down on you as you control your breathing and your hammering bloodpusher, and head for a particularly large church. _One step, breathe in. Another step, breathe out. Stay alert, keep movin', an' try not to be seen._

You read some chronicles of famous troll battles and concluded that the best course of action is to sneak into LOWAA and see what the angels are up to when you aren’t around. Ahab’s Crosshairs are heavy on your back, but there’s no way you’d come here without it. The angels maybe haven’t attacked you yet, but it’s just a matter of time until they do. And when they do, you will be so fucking ready for them. 

You continue scaling the land. Interestingly enough, you haven’t spotted a single angel yet. That’s highly disturbing, not to mention suspicious. 

You jump off of a wall that surrounds a small, provincial church, but you miscalculate the distance, lose your balance, and ungracefully fall on your ass. The butt of your weapon hits the ground, too, with a loud thud. You curse under your breath as you pull yourself up to your strut pods and pat yourself clean. _So much for bein' stealthy._ Despite the ruckus you have caused, however, no angel comes to greet you. You wait a few moments more, and then continue walking towards the church. 

It is so large and imposing that it seems deceptively close. However, after two hours, you have to stop and take a break. You haven’t slept well lately, nor have you eaten before heading out – a capital mistake, you realise now. You didn’t plan on eating so early in your expedition, but starving yourself won’t do you any good, so you settle in a dilapidated garden and take your troll Lunchables out of your backpack. The ground is soft and the air smells slightly salty, which reminds you of home. You can clearly see the sky and the church in the distance from here, so you let down your guard, just a little.  
And then you fall asleep. 

_______________________________________________________________________________

> REGRETTABLY, WAKE UP AS KARKAT VANTAS.

You wake up in a strange position in the recuperacoon, with half of your face caked in dried slime. Instead of relaxing and easing into the oncoming night as you usually do, you immediately go out of it and head for the ablutionblock to wash yourself off.  
Lukewarm water hits your body and you shudder. _Great, the water heater is fucking up again._ You are already getting used to the water, though, so you finish your shower, waking up with each trickle on your warm skin and remembering more and more of what happened last night. 

You dry yourself off hastily, wrapping a towel around yourself, and head back to your respiteblock. You grab your palmhusk from the loungeplank, expecting the usual essay from Eridan where he complains about what happened, explains why he wasn’t replying, throws in some fish puns and the latest gossip, and wraps it all up in his insufferable whining. Instead, a blank chat window greets you. Your messages are labelled as sent, but not read. 

This is when you actually start to worry. Eridan doesn’t sleep a lot lately, and if he went for an early day’s rest yesterday (once again, uncharacteristic), then he should have been up before you. You catch yourself worrying your thinkpan off and groan. _He’s a seadweller; he’s fine, probably went after some tricky lusus, and came home early or something. Don’t panic you fucking wiggler._ Still, that doesn’t explain why Vriska said what she did yesterday, and you know it. You head to your meal block and then plop yourself on the loungeplank with a bowl of cereal and a random movie. You also start checking Trollian subconsciously every five minutes. 

_______________________________________________________________________________

> ERIDAN: WAKE UP, SLEEPYHEAD

You don’t know what happened, but you know it’s your fault. Feferi and Kanaya are staring at you with blank, white ganderbulbs, and you feel an overwhelming wave of dread and guilt wash over you. They are coming closer, you are trying to inch away but they’re faster, they’re bigger, they’re crying and growling and calling your name, th- **CRUNCH**

> I SAID WAKE UP

You sit up with a start, breathing heavily. Rough crumbs of a biscuit you crushed with your frond poke you uncomfortably. _Oh fuck, it was just a daymare. Just a daymare, nothin' else..._

 _Where am I?_ You look around, and it takes you a moment to find your bearings. _Shit, I fell asleep in LOWAA?_

You lie down and let the overwhelming stupidity of what you’ve done wash over you. Had anyone found you, you’d likely be dead now. You try to check your reflection using your palmhusk’s front camera, but the battery seems to have run out while you were snoozing. You use the smooth black screen instead, and conclude that you’re still as handsome and alive as always, if a bit dishevelled. You fix your hair, readjust your glasses, and then start packing your stuff back into the backpack. You also make a mental note to check on Feferi. _Not because a the daymare, a course, that would be stupid, but just like that. Just in case._ Thoughts of her make you feel tingly and excited on the inside, but a recent memory of her giving you the sack ruins the moment, so you immediately stop thinking about it and go back to packing. 

Admittedly, you came unprepared. You thought that this will be a quick recon, that you will get the information you seek without much trouble and return to your shiphive in one night. You also severely miscalculated the distance of the church where you hoped to find the angels. You’re well aware that it would be smart to retreat and go some other time, prepare yourself better… But that would mean admitting defeat, and you really don’t feel like making up _alternative reasons_ for why you were gone the whole night. It is likely that no one noticed except your lusus, but you’d rather not risk it. No reason to give the others another thing to mock you about. 

So, despite your empty palmhusk battery and diminished food rations, you press on. The absence of angels really starts to worry you now. _They had their chance to kill me when I was in the land a nod, so there must be some other explanation. What if somethin' else came to LOWAA while I was gone an' killed the angels? What if it was someone else?_ You’d rather face whatever is in LOWAA head-on than be on the edge constantly. You start walking more carelessly, letting your footsteps echo as much as possible in this silent, oppressive land, but still, nothing comes out. You breathe in and scream  “Come out, asshole, I haven’ got all night!”  – nope. Just silence that seems even heavier after you’ve broken it. You reach into your backpack’s pocket without taking it off and pull out some snacks, then start eating as you walk towards the church. _No use bein' cautious if there’s no one here to hear me._

A white shape slithers away and into the cracks of the nearby church.

_______________________________________________________________________________

> KARKAT CAN HAVE A LITTLE FREAKOUT, AS A TREAT

You don’t realise how long two hours can be until you check your palmhusk constantly and watch the minutes tick away. _Fuck, what if he killed someone and he’s on the run? What if he got killed? What if he’s about to kill someone_ **and** _die and I’m just pacing around like a spongeless piece of shit friend I am?_ The movie has been white noise for some time now because you just can’t focus.

If it was anyone else, you would not worry as much. But ever since Feferi and Vriska dumped him, he changed. You can’t believe it, but you might actually miss the old Eridan. Before it happened, all you’d need to do was make sure that he wasn’t going to hurt someone, and that was enough. He was a highblood after all, and a pompous fuck to boot. And while at first, you talked to him out of necessity – keeping him in check while making sure you don’t come off too strong – over time you actually started enjoying talking to him. Below the layers of hemononsense was a very lonely troll with incredibly vast knowledge of battle tactics and history and a good sense of gossip. He even liked listening to you ramble about quadrants, probably because neither of you was too lucky in that department. For different reasons, mind you.

Now, Eridan was an even bigger mess than before. He slept very little and would forget to eat if you or Seahorsedad wouldn’t check on him. He didn’t spend a lot of time with trolls before, but now he was a recluse, spending nights upon nights reading about Alternian wars and army stuff. Before, you were scared that he’d hurt someone else, but now you were scared that he would get himself in trouble or do something stupid. Something very, very stupid, and very Ampora, because fuck, that dipshit is always in some kind of trouble. 

You’ve spent two hours hesitating, hoping that he will message you and relieve you from having to make this choice. Eridan might be your friend, but he is still a highblood that you’ve never met in person. You don’t know how he or his lusus might react to your mutant blood. On the other hand, if something happens to him, you will blame yourself forever. _If something hasn’t happened already in these ten hours_ , your thinkpan suggests unhelpfully.

With a sigh, you pause the rom-com that you’ve ignored for the past forty-five minutes and go get ready. You don’t know what to expect, so you pack some medical supplies, food, water, and clothes into a backpack. You also take your palmhusk charger, and after some thinking, your husktop too. After you’ve packed it all, you dress up and pull a hooded cloak over your shoulders. For the likes of you, it’s best to keep a low profile, even if they’re doing something stupid like heading straight to a highblood’s house, like a good little baabeast licking the butcher’s knife. You double-check that your sickles are in your strife specibus. Your hands are shaking as you check three, four, five more times. You rifle through the cabinets, pull out a snuggleplane out and pack it, too, and then pace around your hive a few more times. With the flow of your thoughts, you are constantly torn between rushing to find Eridan and procrastinating, looking at your CDs, the old lusus collar, basically doing anything that would delay this incredibly hare-brained plan. 

You force yourself to sit down on the loungeplank and breathe.

When you've calmed down a bit, you check your palmhusk for the millionth time and see that you’ve failed at telepathically willing Eridan to show up. You steel yourself and head for the exit. Before closing the doors, you look back to your living block tentatively, hoping it’s not the last time you see it. You have at least seven rom-coms to finish before kicking the bucket.  
You stand in the doorway and quickly type some messages before leaving.

\--  carcinoGeneticist [CG] began pestering  caligulasAquarium [CA] at 18:41 -- 

CG: IF YOU AREN’T ACTUALLY IN TROUBLE, I WILL BALL UP YOUR STUPID SCARF AND SHOVE IT DOWN YOUR MEAL TUNNEL.  


\--  carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased pestering  caligulasAquarium [CA] at 18:42 -- 

\--  carcinoGeneticist [CG] began pestering  twinArmageddons [TA] at 18:42 -- 

CG: I AM ABOUT TO DO SOMETHING VERY FUCKING STUPID.   
TA: liike what  
CG: I THINK IT’S RATHER OBVIOUS IM NOT GOING TO TELL YOU, NOOKSNIFFER.   
TA: youre the one who me22aged me fiir2t, dumba22.  
CG: YEAH NO SHIT.  
TA: diid you me22age me hopiing iid 2top you  
TA: KK?

\--  carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased pestering  twinArmageddons [TA] at 18:44 -- 

\--  carcinoGeneticist [CG] began pestering  twinArmageddons [TA] at 18:57 -- 

CG: SOME DRONES PASSED BY SO I LAID LOW.  
CG: AND NO YOU BULGELORD. I MESSAGED YOU SO YOU DON’T WORRY.  
TA: who 2ay2 iim worriied?  
CG: WELL FUCK YOU TOO!  
TA: you know ii cant help you iif you act liike a fu22y wiiggler who watched way too many actiion moviie2  
CG: I DON’T NEED YOUR HELP  
CG: I GUESS IM JUST PROJECTING  
CG: LIKE THERE ARE DIRTNOODLES OUT THERE WITH BETTER TEXTING HABITS THAN ERIDAN AMPORA, AND THEY DON’T EVEN HAVE FUCKING FRONDS.  
CG: OR GANDERBULBS FOR THAT MATTER.  
TA: why you even bother wiith that a22hole iis beyond me  
TA: he2 nothiing but trouble  
CG: THAT’S LITERALLY EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU STEAM-POWERED PUNGENT SACKS OF SHIT.  
TA: but there2 only one priincely douchebag wiith delu2iion2 of grandeur  
CG: ILL BE FINE.  
CG: TALK TO YOU LATER.  


\--  carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased pestering  twinArmageddons [TA] at 19:04 -- 

__________________________________________________________________________________ 


	3. Crabs and Confusion

> KARKAT: COME UP WITH A PLAN

Are you insane? How about YOU come up with a plan if you think it’s that easy!

Karkat is, yet again, hiding from the drones. They say that no matter how many times you encounter them, the dread never truly goes away. Karkat wouldn’t know, because he’s a mutantblood, and thus the number one culling priority for the drones. To most of the trolls, a presence of a drone can be a coincidence or just a warning if you’re on the colder side of the hemospectrum. To Karkat, it can only mean death.

That is why he is currently hiding in an alley in the outer reaches of the city, breathlessly watching as a group of drones marches on towards the Bronzeblood farms. He is clasping one strap of his backpack as strongly as he can, turning his knuckles white. His ganderbulbs are transfixed and his little blood pusher is pounding.

It will take a while for him to get his bearings. Why don’t we check on Eridan instead? 

_______________________________________________________________________________

> SOLLUX: HELP A FRIEND OUT

Never mind. It’s Sollux time, apparently.

To be honest, you’re quite pissed off. Karkat is getting his banana hammock in a twist over a jackass who can’t even be bothered to text back. You’re pretty sure that he is either brooding or that he found a new way to fish for attention. Fish. Hehe.

You keep trying to focus on the program in front of you, but an idea won’t stop nagging at you, so you minimise the program and get to work. And surely enough, your assumptions prove right – both Karkat’s palmhusk and husktop are far from his hive. Either he threw them through a window and across the city in one of his fits, or he’s on the move, and you bet on the latter. Does that idiot even know where Eridan lives?  
You groan and lean back in your chair. This was supposed to be your chill day!  
You don’t feel like programming, though.  
And if Feferi finds out about this whole situation, she might ask you to do it anyways.  
…

Ugh, fine. You aren’t gonna do this on an empty stomach, though, so you fetch some sodas and snacks before sitting in front of your computer again. Time to get to work.

First, you check on Karkat again and see that he is moving. You glance at the map and see that he is heading in the general direction of the beach. Alright, so maybe he does know where he’s going. You’re already set on doing this, though, so whatever.

You proceed to type on your keyboard. You’ve talked to Eridan before, so you should be able to pinpoint his palmhusk, too. Sure, you could just ask Feferi, but she’s at a meeting, and she’s only bound to get busier as she nears the age of the duel with HIC, so you prefer not to bother her for reasons as trivial as Eridan’s location.  
You’re only mildly surprised to see an error. Alright, you can try something else. Maybe his palmhusk has anti-tracking tech or whatever. You’ve dealt with worse.  
Several attempts later, you are actually starting to lose your cool. What the fuck is going on? Your failure is only amplified by the fact that it’s Eridan’s palmhusk that you’re failing to locate. He has managed to fuck your plans up twice today and it angers you. Only when you start paying complete attention to an otherwise mundane and simple job do you realise that it’s not that you can’t track his palmhusk, but that you can’t detect its existence at all. There’s a flashing error saying exactly that, but you’ve just clicked through it out of habit. You sigh with relief. _Eridan probably bought another palmhusk or whatever._ Having your skills validated feels nice, but this means you have to bother Feferi after all.

\--  twinArmageddons [TA] began pestering  cuttlefishCuller [CC]  at 19:31 -- 

TA: hey FF  
CC: )(i Sollux!  
TA: ii know youre bu2y rn but could you giive me ED’2 addre22  
TA: iit2 kiinda urgent  
CC: Glub glub?  
CC: W)(at for? 38O  
CC: Please don’t tell me t)(at you two are doing somet)(ing stupid  
CC: Did something )(appen?? 38(  
TA: don’t worry  
TA: KK ju2t want2 to vii2iit hiim and iim p 2ure he ha2 no iidea where he2 goiing  
TA: liike generally in liife too, but al2o at thii2 moment  
CC: O)(, s)(ore then! I’d love to kelp! 38)  
TA: thank2, ii owe you one  
CC: <3  
TA: <3  


\--  twinArmageddons [TA] ceased pestering  cuttlefishCuller [CC]  at 19:35 -- 

_______________________________________________________________________________

> ERIDAN: APPROACH THE CHURCH.

As the heels of your shoes clack on the plaza, you release the breath that you’ve been holding and close your ganderbulbs. Finally, you’ve made it. _Look at me, not bein' an absolute failure!_

You walk over to the dilapidated fountain and sit down. There’s no water, there probably hasn’t been water in there in a long time, maybe never – but that’s alright, you wouldn’t have drunk it anyway. Instead, you pull out a bottle of water from your backpack and take a generous sip while observing your surroundings.

The large church to your right seems to stretch on forever to the skies. You’re not sure about the style of it, but it sure looks fucking old. It is imposing in more ways than just its size, however. You can’t quite put a prong on it, but you can feel that it’s different than other churches. It _feels_ important, shining brighter than the others, catching your bulb and almost calling your name. It is probably key to this whole land.

This is why you decided to go here in the first place. When you came to LOWAA for the first time, you were convinced that you had to find something, some weapon or a clue. You didn’t know what else to do – the angels were utterly useless, gliding around and observing you from the distance, hovering but never approaching. There was no one to point you to your objective, tell you what to do, or challenge you to a duel. It was a dead and a silent land, and when the first wave of enthusiasm and adrenaline wore off, you were left with nothing but boredom and confusion. You started exploring the churches, looking up altars and churches that you saw in your bookhive, challenging angels to duel with you, being very silent, being very loud, challenging the churches to duel with you, you drew a map and tried to chart the buildings hoping to discover something, anything… But nothing worked, and you were left feeling hopeless and lost.

In your subsequent visits, your patience wore thin. Hearing how the others were progressing and exploring their lands while you were stuck in the Monochrome Halloween Rip-off Land made your blood boil. And then on top of it all, there was the whole Sollux thing… but you weren’t ready to unbottle all of those emotions yet. You’re fine with what you fucking have right now, honestly. And then, one evening before your lusus woke up, you snuck out to LOWAA. You were feeling pretty bad about it – you knew your dad would flip his shit if he found out – so you circled LOWAA’s outer edge, trying to make up your mind about whether to stay or go back hive. As you nervously glanced towards LOWAA’s centre, you spotted a glimmer that was only visible if you were walking from right to left and staring right at it. That glimmer was the church that you were sitting next to now, and that time you snuck out was the first time you felt good about yourself in a long time.

The point is, solving the puzzle of this land on your own was important to you. You needed to do this for yourself, to feel capable again. To save what little dignity you have left. You don’t know if it matters anymore, but the only other option you have is giving up and losing everything, and you promised to Feferi that you will take care of yourself.  
With those thoughts and a renewed sense of determination, you pack the water bottle back in your backpack, take Ahab’s Crosshairs off of your back, and head towards the church doors. 

_______________________________________________________________________________

> FEFERI: BUY NONE OF THIS.

Even though you haven’t made it obvious to everyone out of fear for his safety, in your intimate circles it is no secret that you have flushed feelings for Sollux. Every evening, you wake up feeling fresh and bubbly, knowing that Sollux feels the same about you and that you share a quadrant. Sollux is amazing, he fulfils you, and you would trust him with your life.

That being said, there is no way that you are going to buy this “load of carp” that he just served you. Karkat has known Eridan for SWEEPS, and he decides to visit him _now_ , this early in the evening? And Sollux knows about it, but Eridan told you nothing? Something is very fishy here, and it is not you!

Curiosity is eating you alive, and you would give your left frond to find out what is going on, but you’re at a meeting that won’t be over for at least two more hours… Time would probably pass faster if you were actually participating in the said meeting, however, it turns out that despite being a potential empress, your word doesn’t mean shit! Sure, they let you speak and hear you out with “utmost respect”, but your words have no impact. Violetbloods hold all the power in their fronds here, and you are but a pretty accessory, whose only real purpose is to officiate the meeting and remember their faces, in case their plans work and you actually become an empress one day. You consider texting Eridan, but you swiftly change your mind and excuse yourself to the ablutionblock. And then, without a second thought, you swim out of the building, straight towards Eridan’s hive.

You are angry because Sollux didn’t tell you the truth, but you are also concerned for Eridan. He hasn’t been feeling the best lately, and your breakup with him factored in for sure. You don’t regret your choice, but you do feel sorry for him. After all, you’ve been friends for nearly your whole lives. Your memories go way back, from learning how to read with him to attending the last schoolhive dance together… and eventually being asked if you’re flushed for him. He tried very hard to ask you that in the best way possible, over a fancy dinner and everything, and it only accumulated your guilt, because you simply didn’t feel the same for him. Not wanting to crush him completely, you agreed for the middle ground of going pale. However, his unrequited (and obvious) flushed feelings for you complicated everything. Eventually, you met Sollux and realised that you should not be forced to compromise. There was a whole world of potential flushed partners out there, and you were not able to explore it because of Eridan. So you did what you should have done from the beginning - you broke up with Eridan and promised to stay friends. He didn’t take it well.

Even after all of this, you know that Eridan probably still hopes you will be his matesprit one day. It is so frustrating it makes you want to tear your hair out! You like him, but only as a friend! What’s so wrong about being just friends?

Because of all of this, you’ve decided to give Eridan some space, to not encourage him to do something stupid. You’re happy with Sollux, and you want to stay happy. And all was going great, until this evening, when Sollux let you know that he, Eridan, and Karkat are doing _something_. Something they won’t tell you about! You sincerely hope it’s not another duel or a stand-off… You wonder how Karkat is tied into all of this.

Your train of thought is interrupted as you see a familiar coral reef. A school of sparkling fish pass in front of you, unbothered. You remember teaching a tiny violet prince how to hunt here and you soften a little. Still, you are resolute. You will go to Eridan and make him stop whatever nonsense he and Sollux planned this time around. And then you will check on him, because gosh, has it really been three wipes since you last saw each other?

You gracefully leap out of the water and land in front of the… porch? Whatever ships that are turned into hives have, anyways. You move the plastic plant aside and pick up a small golden key. The moment is broken when your palmhusk rings, but you cancel the call and head to the doors. You will be in a lot of trouble for this, but you do not care. What are they gonna do, put the future empress in a time-out? You turn the key and furrow your brow. The doors are already opened. _Shit, I hope Sollux or Karcrab didn’t arrive before me!_

As silently as you can, you rush into the hive and up the stairs. Eridan’s lusus is asleep on his perch. _Alright, if he is asleep, that means that I am probably the first to arrive._ You turn right and reach for the doors to Eridan’s block. They open with no resistance, but the block is empty. You turn around and head back into the hallway. You gently knock on the ablutionblock doors, then clench your teeth and try the handle – the doors open but there’s no one inside. _What in the Horrorterrors’ name is going on?_ You walk all around the hive, throwing the caution to the wind, whispering his name and even going to his hidden bookhive, but Eridan is nowhere to be found. This concerns you deeply. Indeed, you haven’t seen him in quite a long time, but as far as you know, he never left his hive anymore. Unless…

You exit the hive and take your palmhusk out.

\--  cuttlefishCuller [CC]  began pestering  twinArmageddons [TA] at 20:10 -- 

CC: Sollux w)(at is going on! 38(  
TA: what do you mean  
CC: –Eridan is not )(ive! I’ve c)(ecked everyw)(ere!  
TA: shiit  
CC: W)(y won’t you tell me w)(at is going on??  
TA: ii have no iidea FF  
TA: hone2t  
TA: go a2k KK  
CC: Fine, I will! 38I  


\--  cuttlefishCuller [CC]  ceased pestering  twinArmageddons [TA] at 20:12 -- 

You don’t know how to react to this. If Sollux is telling the truth, then you officially have no idea what is going on anymore.

\--  cuttlefishCuller [CC]  began pestering  carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 20:12 -- 

CC: )(ey Karcrab!  


\--  carcinoGeneticist [CG] is now idle! 

CC: I know you’re busy now but I reeflly need to know w)(at is going on 38(  
CC: –Eridan is not )(ive and I’m reely worried

No response. Your palmhusk lights up with a call again, but you cancel this one too.

\--  carcinoGeneticist [CG] is now online! 

CG: ARE YOU FUCKING SHITTING ME.  
CC: 38(  
CG: WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE IS NOT HIVE  
CG: HE IS ALWAYS HIVE  
CC: I c)(ecked everyw)(ere!  
CG: GOD FUCKING DAMNIT AMPORA.  
CG: DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH FERRY TICKETS COST?  
CC: You’re on a ferry? 38O  
CG: YES I AM. FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY SHITTY LIFE, I AM ON A VESSEL THAT HAS THE STABILITY OF A SLINKY IN A PUDDING BOWL. I PAID TO HAVE MY INSIDES TOSSED AND FLOPPED FOR ERIDAN FUCKING AMPORA, AND HE FOR SOME REASON DECIDED TO STOP HIBERNATING AND TO LEAVE HIS HIVE FOR THE FIRST TIME IN CENTURIES. TOWNSFOLK WILL POINT THEIR STUMPS AT HIM AND LOOK PUZZLED TO SEE A TROLL THAT WAS PROCLAIMED DEAD SWEEPS AGO JUST STRUTTING HIS STUFF. THEY WILL HIRE TROLLS TO INVESTIGATE HIS HIVE FOR PARANORMAL ACTIVITY. AND I WILL BARF ON HIS HIVE’S ENTRYWAY AS A WAY OF THANKING HIM FOR PUTTING ME THROUGH THIS BULLSHIT.  
CC: W)(at )(appened? –Eridan and I glubbed aw)(ale ago and )(e seemed fine to me 38(  
CG: I AM GOING THROUGH THIS SHIT BECAUSE ERIDAN DIDN’T RESPOND TO MY MESSAGES. I THOUGHT THAT I SHOULD MAYBE CHECK WHETHER HE SUDDENLY FORGOT HOW TO USE HIS PALMHUSK OR HIS FUCKING FRONDS.  
CG: ALSO VRISKA TOLD ME TO.  
CC: Vriska? 38/  
CG: I KNOW, ALRIGHT? I THOUGHT SHE WAS SPEWING OUT OF HER SEED FLAP TOO.  
CG: IT’S BEEN ABOUT 12 HOURS AND HE STILL DIDN’T SEE MY MESSAGES, THOUGH.  
CG: DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHERE HE COULD HAVE GONE TO?  
CC: Currently I can only t)(ink of one place  
CC: Lowaa 38(  
CG: OH FOR CRYING OUT LOUD.  
CG: ARE YOU *SURE* HE ISN’T HIVE?  
CC: I anc)(ored t)(at already!! You can c)(eck for yourself  
CC: T)(e key is under the plastic palm next to t)(e doors  
CC: I reely )(ave to go, Karcrab 38(  
CG: ALRIGHT, I FUCKING WILL.  
CG: GOOD LUCK WITH WHATEVER YOU HAVE TO DO.  
CC: To you too! If you find somet)(ing out, please leminnow 38)

\--  cuttlefishCuller [CC]  ceased pestering  carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 20:28 -- 

You cancel the third call and head back into the water. Halfway submerged, you quickly text Sollux and apologise. Then you set off to the meeting. To no one’s surprise, they reprimand and lecture you on proper etiquette as soon as you come back. You only nod at whatever they say, because you can’t stop thinking about what just happened. _How in the Horrorterrors’ name is Vriska tied into all of this?_ You don’t know, but one thing’s for sure. _If Vriska got involved… it can only mean trouble for Eridan._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lifehack: if you procrastinate writing your final paper, you might end up updating your fanfic instead! :D  
> I figured that it would be nice if I gave some background info, that's why this chapter is so retrospective.  
> As always, thank you v much for the kudos and comments, they mean a lot to me ^^
> 
> EDIT: 69 hits! _noice_
> 
> EDIT #2: I've fixed some minor mistakes in the 2nd and 3rd chapter. ^^
> 
> Absolutely untimely edit (22/7/2020): Sorry for making you wait, school made me really busy lately. I should update this soon (hopefully) - stuff's in the works already. Thanks for your patience!


	4. Seahorses and Shenanigans

> KARKAT: FINALLY ARRIVE.

You audibly exhale as your strutpods touch firm ground again. You also consider giving yourself a fucking medal for not only making it alive but also not projectile puking all over at any given point.

Once you make sure you are truly not dead, because _holy shit what are the chances_ , you take a good look around. The wooden dock you’re standing on is pretty silent. There weren’t many passengers on board, and the majority has already scurried away. _This is good._ You look at the water and gulp. _This is very fucking good. At least I will get to die in peace instead of being free entertainment for entitled assholes while someone’s toothfish lusus eats me alive._ The night has now truly set, and only the faintest traces of deep violet stretch in the Alternian sky. You stare at it for a moment and then slowly, slowly start nearing the water. Some oliveblood spares you a quick glance and then returns to typing on her palmhusk while walking away, leaving you officially alone with the water. The sea is dark and it laps lazily at the shore. One wave reaches further and barely touches your strutpod and you instinctively jump back. _Fuck no._

You look at those traces of violet reflected in the water. _Fuck maybe?_

Returning hive after you’ve done all this is stupid and you know it, so you suck it up and get nub-deep into the water. It’s strange, it’s cold on your warm skin, and you swear something touched you for a second. You empty your mind and fully immerse yourself, trying not to splash or attract attention in any way, and once you see no one is running towards you to cull you, you start swimming towards a shipwreck in the distance. It is a black, unforgiving shape obscuring the starry sky, its tower seemingly cutting it in half. Salty water starts prickling your gills and irritating them, but you shove your shirt into your pants and do your best to ignore it as you keep swimming. When you spot something a few meters away that roughly resembles a fin, you swear silently and grab the sickles from your sylladex. You continue swimming with the sickles in your fronds until you reach the shore, tense as a bowstring, even though nothing ends up approaching you, and you make it to Eridan’s hive in just under 20 minutes. For the second time tonight, you touch the solid ground with an overwhelming sense of relief and gratitude. You run to the beach, as far as you can from the water, and sit on the sand to catch your breath. You decaptchalogue your palmhusk and check if Eridan has come online in the meantime. He didn’t, but you have two unread messages from Sollux.

\--  twinArmageddons [TA] began pestering  carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 21:12 -- 

TA: are you aliive  
TA: iif you dont reply iin 15 2econd2 ii am legally allowed to take your DVD2  


\--  carcinoGeneticist [CG] is now online! 

CG: PRONGS OFF MY EXQUISITE COLLECTION, JACKASS  
TA: fuck  
TA: diid you fiind hiim already  
CG: HOLD YOUR HOOFBEASTS. I DIDN’T ENTER HIS HIVE YET.  
TA: break iin  
CG: WHAT  
CG: FEFERI LEFT ME THE KEY, YOU MORON  
TA: no do iit  
CG: WHY THE FUCK WOULD I DO THAT  
TA: becau2e ii 2aiid 2o  
CG: THANK YOU FOR THAT FLAWLESS REASONING. ALLOW ME TO CAREFULLY STORE IT IN A BOX OF REASONS WHY I NEVER ASK YOU FOR ANY FUCKING ADVICE.  
CG: CATCH YOU LATER.  


\--  carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased pestering  twinArmageddons [TA] at 21:15 -- 

You look back towards the hive and decide it’s time. You pointlessly try to brush the sand off of your wet clothes before giving up and heading to the hive’s entrance. With a bit of effort, you push a potted plant aside and spot a golden glimmer. Jackpot. You lift a small, golden key with an engraved seahorse, and fuck if you know why but you get emotional. You turn it this way and that, examining the engraving. You remember that you used to have a keychain in the shape of Crabdad’s claw that meant the world to you, and provided comfort when you weren’t hive. That shitty little keychain couldn’t compare to actual Crabdad, though, but he was gone now and so was the keychain. The only sentimental piece you could bear to keep around was his collar from the days when you were a tiny grub and used to ride him around the house, holding onto the collar to not fall off. It was just too important to you to toss away, even if it pained you to look at it.

Things were always shitty, but they were remarkably less shitty back then. It’s like life makes it a point to exponentially increase its shittiness the longer you manage to stay alive. _How comforting._ A few tears sting your ganderbulbs and you aggressively wipe them off.

Filled with some inexplicable anger, maybe towards life itself, or towards a hive that still has its Lusus, you shove the key in the keyhole and push the doors open using all your strength. You miscalculate the force that is necessary to open creaky wooden ship doors, however, so when you push them, they violently swing open and bang against a wall. Eridan’s lusus startles from his sleep and softly snorts, and then it spots you. You, a troll he has never seen before, an intruder instead of Eridan. At this moment, you realise that maybe, just maybe, this was a really stupid idea.

_______________________________________________________________________________

> ERIDAN: FINALLY ENTER THE CHURCH

Both excitement and nervousness make you jitter. You were waiting so long for this moment, and you have absolutely no idea what waits for you past these doors - a grand seraph angel of some sort that will duel you for the weapon of this land? A sphinx with a difficult question about military strategy? A whole different world made of kelp that will lead you to the second portal? You adjust Ahab’s Crosshairs in your frond, steel yourself, and then lean your other shoulder on the doors. The heavily ornamented dusty doors open slowly, without a sound, as you strain to push them open. Once you do, you brace yourself and cautiously step in. This is it. You can’t wait to tell the others how you finally did it.

As you step on the porch, you look around, wide-ganderbulbed. It is huge and bright, and… empty. It’s also just another church, which is also fucking falling apart. You quickly adjust your glasses and look around, down the nave and up to the aisles, but there’s nothing. As if responding to your increasing ire, a piece of the wall crumbles and falls onto the nave, shattering to pieces. It sprays the church generously with dust but makes no sound like this whole place is covered in a thick snuggleplane.

You look around once more, letting the anger and disappointment flood you, and kick the church wall in a fit of rage. _All a this bullshit for nothin’?_ You look back towards the entrance doors, considering walking out, when movement across the block catches your ganderbulb – a faint white trace, a graceful snake floating in the air, disappearing behind the centrepiece statue of a circle of angels. Holding your breath in, you follow it, with your prong on the trigger as a precaution. _An angel? Was I right all along?_ The creature did not behave like an angel, though – while angels were either nauseatingly apathetic or ridiculously aggressive, this one just seemed to play conceal-and-investigate with you. It would wait for you, hovering in air, and the moment you would approach, it would move away, waiting for you to follow it again. This experience brought forth fond memories of Feferi and playing conceal-and-investigate with her, back when you were still basically wigglers. She wasn’t very good at hiding – her hair, even then wild and long, would usually poke out from wherever she hid, even if she tied it up. Still, you pretended not to see her to humour her and let her win, finding her victorious giggle a reward enough in itself. You would sit down on the ground and pout, (loudly) whispering how she is so good and you can never find her, and she would come out and hug you, telling you to go hide next. You stop this stream of pleasant memories when you feel a familiar lump in your throat. _I need to be resolute now and focus. There will be time for reminiscin' later._

As you look back up, you notice that the angel has become fainter, nearly transparent, and more frantic in its movement. You hurry across the shaggy carpet and behind the statue, and when you don’t notice the angel at first, your pusher sinks. However, you spot it a moment later, entering a great arch to the right. You look over your nub, and confirm your suspicions – despite the broken windows and crumbling walls, it is obvious that the left and the right sides were identical back when the church was whole. Thus, there is an identical arch on the left side of the church, as well. You weigh your options. _If this is a test a leadership, then I need to enter the left one an’ prove I can carve my own path. My task is to investigate the angels, though…_

You consider entering the left arch out of pure curiosity, but, remembering that you were lamenting the angel’s disappearance not even ten seconds ago, you opt to follow the angel instead. As you enter the pointed stone arch to the right, you don’t brace for what awaits you because you’re too concerned that the angel will get away again. It’s just as well because no amount of bracing would have prepared you for encountering the same block you’ve just exited. As you enter the arch, you emerge from a place that looks like the main entrance to the church you entered a minute ago. You stop for a moment, stumped, and look around. The blinding white light enters the stained, dusty windows under the same angle as before, even though the arch and the entryway doors are not aligned at all. The piece of wall that crumbled as you entered the church is there, too. _This… can’t be possible, can it? Or is this just another LOWAA fuckery?_

And fuckery it was.

_______________________________________________________________________________

> KARKAT: IMPROVISE.

In retrospect, you should be pleased that you have lived this long. What are the chances, anyway? You don’t remember ever hearing about a mutantblood that made it to adulthood (except Signless), so frankly, you should have seen this coming. It was a good run.

These are all the thoughts that run through your panicked think pan as Eridan’s lusus sniffs you all over, snorting softly. You have grabbed one of Eridan’s capes from the hanger on the wall and have wrapped it around you, hoping that it still smells strongly enough of Eridan to conceal your own scent. It’s salty and briny with a faint scent of perfume, and whoa you’re suddenly not on the ground anymore.

As the lusus grabs you for the cape and carries you upstairs, you take a moment to reflect on how stupid all of this is, maybe in order to not reflect on how long it has been since your lusus carried you to recuperacoon, or existed in your proximity at all. Your ganderbulbs get wet again, but you are trying your best not to move and alert this potential sea murderlusus in any way, so you bite your lip and suck it up as Seahorsedad opens the doors to what must be Eridan’s block, drops you next to the recuperacoon, and snorts decisively.

 _Fuck no!_ You turn towards him and cross your arms, giving him A Look. You are not going to strip naked in front of your friend’s lusus and that’s final. Ganderbulbing you for a moment with either amusement or exasperation (you can’t tell), it turns around, glides out of the respiteblock, gives you one last look, and closes the doors. As the doors click, you let out a breath you’ve been holding for far too long and turn on the light. The first thing you notice about his respiteblock is that it hasn’t been aired out for far too long. As you open the windows, you start looking around piles of wands (what) and stacks of books. You don’t see Ahab’s Crosshairs anywhere (according to Eridan’s descriptions, it should be quite easy to spot) nor his glasses. You don’t dare go downstairs and explore his hive, but taking into consideration his lusus’ reaction to your arrival, you are now pretty sure that Eridan is, in fact, not hive. There is only one other place where he would usually be, and it’s on the way anyways, so you decide to head there.

You pull out your palmhusk and quickly update Sollux and Feferi, and then approach Eridan’s bookshelves. Remembering what he told you back when you were supposed to visit LOWAA with him (you wanted to, damn it, shit happens), you pull out a gilded white tome from the third shelf, and a doorway opens to his bookhive. Figuring that it’s a matter of time before Eridan’s lusus comes looking for you, you put the book back and rush inside, letting the bookshelf door close behind you.

The block you have entered is small and the ceiling is low, making you feel nearly claustrophobic. There is a single window, and a cosy loungeplank underneath it piled high with cushions and snuggleplanes, so many that it nearly looks like a pile. What space isn’t occupied with the loungeplank is occupied by shelves and shelves of ancient-looking tomes and, as you realise as you pick up a book from a pile, saucy romance novels. The salty sea air wafts into the room. You open the book to a random page and read for a minute before you realise that Eridan could be bleeding out in LOWAA, so you captchalogue the book and head towards the doors. You will tell Eridan you borrowed it; and either way, he owes you! When you open the short, light doors, you find yourself in the tower. From the water it looked much shorter; right now, as you’re looking up the winding staircase that reaches the first portal, you are wondering if you even have the strength to do it after all of the swimming and the running. Still, you press forward, resolute to help a friend.

_______________________________________________________________________________

> ERIDAN: ADDRESS THE FUCKERY

As you stand there, dumbfounded, trying to figure out what the fuck is going on, the angel passes next to you and proceeds to swim gracefully through the air, as if this is totally normal. Then again, you’re not sure – maybe this _is_ normal on LOWAA, and you’ve never noticed?

The angel heads again for the right arch. You don’t know what to do. Fear and nervousness start gripping you slowly. Is this a test of perseverance or defiance? Are you supposed to do what you’re told and follow the angel or not? You feel like you’re attending an exam that you didn’t prepare for. With shaky footsteps, you follow the angel again to the right arch. _Maybe somethin’ is supposed to happen. Maybe I’m doin’ somethin’ wrong?_ You duck under the arch, and yet again, you find yourself at the main entrance. The doors of the church close loudly behind you. The angel doesn’t seem to mind.

You start running after the angel, and it starts moving faster too. Right arch, entrance, right arch, entrance, right arch, entrance, it keeps repeating over and over again until you’re out of breath. Cold sweat starts dotting your forehead as you sit in the pew and tilt your head back, trying to catch your breath. You take your palmhusk out and consider messaging someone before you remember that the battery’s dead and toss it back into your backpack. The angel looks at you from behind the statue quizzically, almost innocently, as if it’s asking “What’s the holdup?” and you hate it. You get up and follow it again, but this time, you decisively enter the left arch. You brace for it and… And you’re at the entrance again. You scream out of frustration and fire Ahab’s Crosshairs at the statue. It leaves a large hole, and the right side unceremoniously crumbles and falls to the ground, leaving a pile of rubble in its wake. The angel remains unfazed, if less transparent. You sit down in the pew again and bury your face in your hands. After a few seconds of heavy breathing, you start devising a plan of action.

_Alright, change a plans. The battle is lost, but not the war. I will follow the dipshit for a few more goes, and if this ends up being a wild honkbirdchase, I will just head back through the entrances until I emerge back in LOWAA. Then I will go back to my bookhive and devise a new plan to get to the bottom of this hoofbeastmanure of a world._

After a couple more minutes, you get up and start walking towards the right arch again. You see something in your peripheral vision, but it’s gone before you turn around. The atmosphere grows a tinge heavier. The angel gets up from its spot on the now-ruined statue and leads the way.

It goes exactly as you thought it would go. Another arch, and another, and another – there is no end to this bullshit, and as you keep walking, the oppressive gloom keeps getting heavier. Maybe it’s because you’ve run, or maybe because Ahab’s Crosshairs are suddenly so heavy in your arms, but you find it harder and harder to keep going. You sit in the pew again, but the air now feels so stuffy and hot that you almost feel worse just by breathing. Your pusher is pounding, and your mind is racing fervently, trying to come up with one explanation or another. _Is this a test a my trust, or my patience? Is the increasin’ warmth the sign that I’m gettin’ closer?_

The angel reliably keeps hovering just under the right arch and waiting for you. You get up and run towards it, sprinting as fast as you can. The arches fly over your thinkpan faster and faster as you breathe with your mouth to keep up the pace. You promise yourself, _just one more arch, one more and then the reward will come, and others will care about my pathetic rump again_. The white rays of light coming through the windows glint off of your tears as they slide off of your cheeks and fall on the cold stone floor.

You run, and you run, and then you collapse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am, indeed, still alive!  
> Sorry about the very belated update, but school and life got hectic.  
> Thank you so much for all the kudos and the bookmarks ;^; <3


	5. Deals and Dread

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Abuse, blood.  
> I will try and put trigger warnings where applicable, but please don't forget to check the story's tags! I doubt I will add new ones, so what's tagged there should be relevant to the entire fanfic.

> ERIDAN: OUCH. 

You open your ganderbulbs and immediately have a coughing fit as you breathe in the dust and the grime of the centuries. _Fuck, does anyone ever clean this place?_ It takes you a few moments to realise that no, no one does, because the carpets have a wing pattern and you are not hive. You had secretly hoped that the whole church bullshit was just another daymare, but here you are again.

You look around and notice that you can’t. Everything is blurry as shit like you’re staring through murky water and trying to make out the shapes of the pebbles, except the pebbles are moving and the water is moving and everything is moving. _Wait. Why are things movin’ in this church?_ You start frantically patting the floor for your glasses. They seem to have bounced off a bit away from you when you royally faceplanted onto the ground. Your relief when you find them and put them on is immediately cut short when you notice that about a hundred angels are circling around you, like a monstrous tornado of slithering ghosts. You audibly gasp and jump to get Ahab’s Crosshairs, but it’s nowhere to be found, and your backpack is gone, too. For the first time since this expedition started, you feel truly afraid, but you are determined not to let it show.

“Alright, can some explain to me what the fuck is goin’ on?” – You shout, standing up and patting yourself down, like you are talking to a bunch of unruly grubs and not ethereal demons. Your voice cracks on the last word. Even though the angels have no ganderbulbs, you get the impression that all of them are observing you now. Your pump biscuit rate quickens. A voice, strange and infinitely echoing, reaches you in return:

“We’ve been expecting you.”

That’s fine and totally not creepy at all!

“Why? What do you want?” – You respond, still searching for Ahab’s Crosshairs. You are rarely unarmed, and it makes you nervous.

One of the angels comes closer. It’s the small one that you have been following.

“We want to help you, Prince.”

“What makes you think any a you can help me? Give me my weapon back.”

The angel tilts its think pan. “Ah, but we cannot, we simply must talk… You see, we know what ails you.”

“Yes, yes” – chants the chorus of angels behind it, still circling slowly.

The small angel moves through the air, inspecting you. “Tell me, Prince, has it been enough?”

“Enough a what.”

“Enough of waiting… enough of pain…” The angel now faces you. “Enough of being left behind and alone…”

“So alone, so alone…” – mourn the angels.

Eridan snorts derisively. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about”

The angel chuckles softly. “You know what I’m talking about, Eridan… You know better than anyone. Tell me, how is Feferi these days?” Eridan frowns.

“You don’t know, do you? She’s too busy… busy spending time with someone else.”

“What does this have to do with ANYTHIN’?” – Eridan replies, obviously upset.

“If I told you that we could grant you the power to right all of the wrongs that have been done to you… to transcend yourself, to become better than you’ve ever been… What would you say to that?”

“One of us, one of us” – the angels chant.

The power to right all of the wrongs… A shiver passes through your body as you imagine Sollux and Feferi. It’s the sort of anger that is difficult to control for a highblood like you. As if responding to that, the angel flicks its tail. It’s waiting for your answer.

“It’s hoofbeastmanure” – you reply – “Feferi still cares about me!”

The angels exchange glances. You can feel that they are being judgemental. You really wish you could laser a few of them, or at least leave.

“Is that so?” – asks the angel curiously. “Do you know how long you’ve been away?”

“About a day, why?”

“Do you think that any of them even noticed?”

You hesitate. “They probably did.”

One of the other angels approaches carrying a slick black rectangle in a pink casing.  
“Then check it. I dare you.” The other angel holds it out to you with its tail. You take your palmhusk with shaking fronds. You know that the battery has run out, but lo and behold, you touch the power button and it turns on in a couple of seconds, revealing the lock screen with your sign. Surprisingly, there is very strong Wi-Fi here ( _Hello? Where was that when I needed it?_ ) and your battery is at 100%. However, there are no messages from any of your friends, even though a few of them are currently online. You only realise how much you’re frowning when you hear the angel tutting at you.

“They don’t care about you, Prince… We’re the only ones that truly love you.”

_______________________________________________________________________________

> KARKAT: SWEAR GENEROUSLY.

You would, you really would, if you weren’t out of breath. _Fuck Ampora and fuck this zigzag incline! Could the rich asshole not afford an escalator to his first gate?_ You’ve been climbing for about an hour now and your strutpods feel like jelly. If this is the reason why your past self didn’t go to LOWAA sooner, you will forgive him this one time, because holy shit was he right! This is not worth it!

Another fifteen minutes pass and you’re finally at the top and completely out of breath. Thankfully, Eridan put a loungeplank up here; it’s the sort of insight you wish he had had when building the whole thing. Your everything aches and you’ve just about had it. Considering that this will be over the sooner you get it over with, you finish the chocolate bar you brought with you and head into the portal. You immediately regret entering so quickly, because your guts go all squirmy and you have to take deep breaths to not throw up. But there it is: LOWAA, in all its glory, pointy black churches and everything.

You take a good look around, and conclude that Eridan was not exaggerating at all - this place sucks ass. The only positive thing you can think of is that Eridan will stand out in all of this monochrome bullshit. You take a sip of water and head towards the closest church to peek in it. When you do, you remember that the angels should be around as well, so you decaptchalogue your sickles once more and put the water bottle back. Hydrating is important, but you’d rather not be torn to shreds than be a hydrated corpse, thank you very fucking much.

Church after church, nave after nave, you search for Eridan. Thankfully, most churches are small (even if they are tall), so a glance or two inside are enough to conclude whether Eridan has been there. The problem is that there are many churches and only one of you; one tired, grumpy you, that is losing hope by the second. You check your palmhusk, but there is no Wi-Fi here, _duh_. You also wonder whether the land has always been so… dead. Has Eridan killed all of the angels here? You suppress a shiver and keep walking. _Will he even recognize me, or will he just shoot anything that moves? Fuck, that would-_

Your train of thought is interrupted by a crinkle underfoot, clashingly colourful against the grey ground. A piece of paper looks back at you. _Troll Lunchables?_ With renewed vigour, you start peeking into the churches. _Either the angels got a supermarket up here, or Eridan passed through!_

_______________________________________________________________________________

> ERIDAN: HOLD ONTO LAST HOPE.

You stare at the palmhusk. _Maybe they didn’t see me come online?_ Feferi goes offline, and no messages come to greet you from her or anyone else. Sollux goes offline a few seconds later. You squeeze the palmhusk.

“No one is messaging you, Prince” – the angel states the obvious. You bare your teeth.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Why?” The angel responds, amused. “Should I shield you from the truth instead? Tell you they’re all ignoring you because they _love_ you?” It hovers practically in front of your face. “Should I lie that anyone that isn’t in this block cares about you?”

It all happens in a few seconds. Eridan drops the palmhusk and lunges himself at the angel, aiming his pointy, manicured claws and sharp teeth at the angel’s face. The snapping jaws miss the angel, but the claws don’t, ripping deep into the angel’s face. Black blood sprays out of the wound. The angel hisses and lunges forward, sinking its teeth into Eridan’s arm. They pierce his sweater like surgical blades, draw blood, and the angel pulls back. At once, all of the angels stop their hypnotic circling and retaliate, surrounding the wounded angel while keeping Eridan at bay. One of the larger angels smacks Eridan in the face with its tail, breaking one half of the glasses and sending Eridan flying back into the wall. And just like that, once they see that Eridan has been put into his place, they begin circling around him again as if nothing had ever happened. They also seem more corporeal now, and greyish instead of white. The angel calmly approaches Eridan again, who is checking out his wounded arm.

“Child, why do you hate us so? We have shown you nothing but love.”

Eridan doesn’t respond. The angel sighs.

“We have seen your actions, Prince. You are brave, smart, and strong. You deserve better.”

Eridan turns his think pan slightly.

“Leave those fools behind. They were never worthy of your time. They envied you for your skill and your blood. We have seen it happen many times.”

“Brave, smart, strong” – echoed the chorus.

“What do you want from me?” – growled Eridan, glaring.

The angel grimaces, perhaps smiling. “Your patronage. We will give you power beyond your wildest imagination… In exchange for your fears.”

“My fears?”

“All of them.” It licked its lip.

Eridan considers the offer. _Fearless and powerful… Nothin' would ever stand in my way again, not even Sollux._ His fists clench a little.

“Will you return Ahab’s Crosshairs to me?”

“After the deal is concluded, you can have all of your things back.”

“It’s a deal.”

The second those words leave your lips, the ground trembles and you fall on your fronds and nubs. For a very long moment of anticipation you feel nothing, and then you scream as you sense the disgusting, long point stumps poke into your mind and pull out things you never wanted anyone to see. The pain is so intense that you lose your sight, struggling against whatever the angels are doing to you. You throw yourself back and hit yourself against the wall again, then curl up and cover your think pan, but nothing helps. You struggle to breathe. Hatred unlike any you’ve ever felt courses through your veins and consumes every fibre of your body as your memories and fantasies tear you apart. You start wheezing as you struggle to fight the onslaught of pure hatred and feelings of betrayal. Steadily, the control of your mind slips away from you and your memories start morphing, disgustingly adapting to every fear you’ve ever had, to every jealous thought you cooked up in your shiphive while hating on yourself for being so damn awful that no one cared if you lived or died.

The angels hum with pleasure as they soar above you, dipping down from time to time and basking in your misery like lazy purrbeasts bask in the moonbeams. The more they do it, the darker they become, until they are pitch black, darker than any night on Alternia ever was.

Images flash in your mind. Feferi ditching you for Sollux and dedicating fully to him while decisively deleting your messages and your number, Karkat sighing at your messages and choosing to ignore you because you are too much of a hassle to deal with, Kanaya rolling her ganderbulbs at your fashion choices, Vriska laughing maniacally in the early morning as you stare, unbelieving, at the corpse of a sailor you sent off that morning on a relatively harmless mission to scout for lusii…

Feferi forgot you. Sollux ridicules you. Kanaya can’t stand you. You’re a laughing stock to Vriska. Karkat hates you. No one wants you. Warm tears trickle down your face, but the angels are relentless. You’d beg them to stop, but the flashing images and the pain won’t let you. You can hear nothing but your ragged, hitched sobs and the gliding of the Angels around you.

You try your hardest to recall the taste of the salty waters. It will not come. You try to imagine the feeling of water enveloping you like a snuggleplane in its embrace, but it will not resurface from your memory. You are doomed. You are hopeless.

You are V ER Y CO L D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't make deals with demons, kids
> 
> According to the Homestuck Wiki, "This suggests that Eridan's later "scientific" abilities and murderous breakdown were caused by his interactions with the angels; this parallels how Doc Scratch implied the Horrorterrors influenced Rose. Angels, thus, may even have an insidious influence similar or complementary to that of the Horrorterrors, though the lack of attention paid to them by the plot makes this uncertain." (Source: https://mspaintadventures.fandom.com/wiki/Angel_(Homestuck) ). The exact lack of attention paid to this (and Eridan in general) in the story made me write this fanfic in the first place!
> 
> This chapter was a bit short, but I'm trying to organise the chapters by the pacing in the story instead of trying to hit a certain word count per chapter. The next chapter should be there soon, as I've already got some ideas outlined!
> 
> EDIT #1 (12/08/2020) We've reached 314 hits! Hooray for the Homestuck number!


	6. Scars, Old and New

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Blood, trauma.

> KARKAT: WANDER.

You traverse the barren land. You have thrown any precaution to the wind long ago, metaphorically of course, because there is no wind in this dead land, just stale air and a metric fuckton of empty churches. The adrenaline has worn off, so you have started to drag your strutpods. You have been walking for hours, and you don’t think that your body can take much more of it. You shakily approach a fountain and sit down, pull out a water bottle, drink all that’s left, and toss it back into your backpack. There is a sinking feeling in your digestion bladder, possibly caused by the unnatural stillness. The pit yawns even wider when you realise that Eridan had spent countless hours here all by himself. With a grunt, you jump down from the fountain. _I can go on a bit longer._

The church in front of you seems older than the others. One tower is missing its roof, while the other tower is just completely gone. Even with its key features missing, the church is massive, dominating the landscape. You lean one frond on the main doors and push. _Fuck it’s heavy!_ You lean one of your nubs on it too, then the whole left side of your body. With a lot of strain, the doors finally budge and open, and you push them as hard as you can. Once you manage to open them enough, you slip inside and let them shut themselves.

The air inside the church feels thick with dust and filled with static. The fine hairs on your neck bristle as you walk deeper into the nave. The figures of angels on the walls judgementally stare you down as you reach the centrepiece statue. It represents a circle of angels, each holding the tail of the one in front of it. You step back to take a good look at it, but your ganderbulbs pause on the wall. _Is that blood?_ Your pump biscuit hammers as you follow the trail of blood down to an arch on the right side of the church. Violet blood mixes with black blood in drips and drops and wide smears, over the carpet and the walls, reaching as far as the ceiling in one spot. Light filters through stained windows covered in crusty blood. There is a crumpled form under the window. Sobs overwhelm you as you run to Eridan and turn him around so he can breathe. _If he is still… no no no no no NO NO!_

You half exhale-half sob with relief when you feel a pulse. The moment you let go of his arm, Eridan stirs. Vacant, confused ganderbulbs briefly stare at yours before he comes to. He jumps back, completely dishevelled, grabs Ahab’s Crosshairs with his left frond, and aims them at you, approximately. You notice that his glasses are mostly shattered. Also, since when is he left-fronded?

“I PAID THE FUCKIN’ PRICE, OKAY? ENOUGH A THIS SHIT!” – he screams at you. You have no idea what the fuck, but you don’t quite feel like dying right now, so you put your fronds up and step back.  
“Eridan, what the fuck are you’re doing? It’s me, you idiot!”  
Eridan sneers. “Right, right, because the real Karkat Vantas is known for wearin’ my cape!” His prong is on the trigger, but he is hesitating. “Gotta hand it to them though, they almost got you perfectly this time.”

You aren’t sure whether it’s the exhaustion or the nonsense that he is spewing, but a switch in you flips to angry. This day has been a bitch to you, and boy, have you had enough.

“Ampora, I swear to the fucking horrorterrors, you have two seconds to lower your weapon before I leave you to bleed out on this shithole of a planet!” Eridan looks confused, but he lowers Ahab’s Crosshairs. However, you are far from done. “The bullshit you have put me through shaved ten sweeps clean off of my life expectancy, and that’s if I’m still stupid enough to have expectations of a long life while hanging out with prince fish-for-sponge! Do you have any fucking idea what I have gone through to come to… to make sure th…” You notice that Eridan has started sobbing and you shut up immediately. He slumps back against the wall and lays Ahab’s Crosshairs at his strutpods, drops his broken glasses to the ground and covers his face, and just like that, every last molecule of your anger is gone like it never even existed. You crouch down, unsure if you should even touch him after causing this. _Good fucking job Karkat, A+ assistance. Good thing he didn’t get culled up here, so you could shout him to tears instead!_

You unclasp the cape from your shoulders and wrap it around him. Insecurely, you put your frond on his shoulder. “Here, you can have the cape back. Hey. Hey, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you.” Eridan says something incomprehensible and buries his face in your chest. You hug him back with trembling fronds. Your pusher feels like it’s going to explode from pity. _What the fuck happened to him?_ After a few moments, Eridan pulls back and wipes his ganderbulbs with his sleeve, sniffling between apologies. “I can’t believe it’s really you”, he tells you. You clench your jaw. This was not the troll that took down lusii ten times his size and complained if he chipped his nail polish doing it. He is trembling like a leaf.

“Are you hurt?” You glance to the side, at the window. The amount of blood staining this corner makes you sick to your stomach.  
“I’m fine.” He pulls himself up and grabs his stuff. “Let’s get out of here.” His movements are shaky, but he is determined. You cross your arms.  
“I don’t think that you’re in any shape to walk for hours.”  
“Well you don’t exactly look fresh out of the ablution trap either, but we need to leave anyways.”  
“Why?”  
Eridan pauses. “It’s complicated. Just trust me, okay?”  
You sigh. “Alright, fine. Let’s go.”

When you exit the church, you both shield your faces. LOWAA’s white sky looks down at you. You hook your arm around Eridan’s to keep him from stumbling. You wonder what happened to his glasses or him in general. You saw no angels in the church save for the statues.

Your steps make no sound, and you have a distinct feeling that you’re barely moving. You’re not sure if Eridan will be able to make it to the portal back to his hive - hell, you’re pretty sure that you won’t be able to, either. Spots are already forming in your vision, and now that you know that Eridan is at the very least alive, all of the night’s exhaustion has come back at once. You look up at Eridan and your gaze meets his. You can clearly see his ganderbulbs now, vivid and violet with small, bright specks. You’d appreciate them more if you didn’t just get reminded that you’re a mutant and that he still might cull you if he finds out, for example, by taking a good look at _your_ ganderbulbs. You avert your gaze.

“Do you need a break?” – Eridan asks you.  
“Yeah, let’s make a stop soon.”  
“Alright.”

You keep walking until you spot a church covered in dry ivy where you rested before. You nod your think pan in its direction, and Eridan nods back. You enter it and settle down on the side where the roof hasn’t given in yet, leaning against the cold stone wall. The air is dry and it’s difficult to breathe. Eridan takes a water bottle from his backpack and drinks and then hands the bottle to you. You drink the rest and toss it back into his backpack.  
After a short breather, you get up and approach him. “Alright, let me see those wounds. I brought a medkit.”  
Eridan hisses and wraps himself up in the cape. “Oh fuck off Kar, I told you I’m fine!”  
You stare at Eridan in disbelief. The only thing this bulgelord brought to the table so far is the audacity, and you’re having none of it. _His blood was on the ceiling for crying out loud! How did it even fucking get there?_ You sigh and approach him like you would a rambunctious wiggler. “Come on. It’s a long way hive, at least three more hours, and it will be way more if you pass out from blood loss in the middle of LOWAA. We need to get out of here ASAP, you said it yourself. Now stop being a fucking wiggler.”  
Eridan glares at you. “Only if you promise not to tell the others.”  
“Fine, whatever, I promise. Now let me see.”

Eridan takes a deep, shaky breath and unclasps his cape, folding it onto his backpack so it doesn’t get dusty. He removes his scarf, places it on the cape, and then grabs his sweater by the back and pulls it up. When it’s off his torso, he manoeuvres his left arm out if it, and then carefully tugs it off his right arm. You hear the sound of fabric and the faint crackle of dry blood crumbling. Eridan winces a little. You are trying not to stare, but you can’t take your ganderbulbs off of him.

His black sweater does a good job covering it, but Eridan is much skinnier than you expected, if somewhat muscular as well. When you spot his gills, you automatically pull your high-waist pants up. And, well, then there’s all the blood. It’s mostly dry by now, but his skin is practically marked all over by scars, new and old. His right arm seems the bloodiest - you can barely see the skin.  
“Can I take your water?” – You ask him. He nods.  
You go to his backpack, pull out Lunchables, shove them back, and pull out a bottle of water. You grab a clean shirt from your backpack as well, wet it, and approach Eridan. He is not looking at you, and he protectively wraps his arms around himself, but he doesn’t protest as you wipe the blood off of him, and eventually folds his hands in his lap. You carefully avoid his gills, idly wondering if blood got in them, too. As you squeeze the excess water out of the shirt, violet water streams onto the ground. Once you’re done with his torso, you move onto his arm, gently patting it down while checking if it’s hurting him. Eridan is putting on a brave face, but you’re sure that the disinfection fluid stings as fuck – it sure stung you when you were having your shoulder mended after you jumped through a closed window. He is full of bruises and minor cuts, but you don’t have the means to treat those, so you start patching him up with bandages and band-aids.

“Where did you learn to do this stuff?” – he asks while you deftly clean and bandage his arm. He seems impressed.  
“I had to learn to take care of myself after the incident.”  
“Oh.” He is visibly uncomfortable. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“  
“It’s okay.” You smile wanly. You don’t talk anymore.

When you’re done, you wash the shirt with the last of the water from that bottle and go outside to wring it out. As you step back in, you are about to ask Eridan when he wants to leave when you notice that he has dozed off. You stand at the doorway with the wet shirt in your fronds and watch him for a moment. He looks peaceful.  
_How long has it been since he fed Gl’bgolyb? Is there a chance that she could Vast Glub us all to save me the embarrassment if he wakes up and sees me doing this?_ , you wonder, as you carefully unfold the cape and cover Eridan with it. Then you lay down across from him, using your backpack as a pillow.

You can’t sleep.

_______________________________________________________________________________

> ERIDAN: …?

You’re naked and alone in the middle of a black sea. It’s day and your ganderbulbs hurt from the light, so you dive under the surface. The black sea gratefully accepts you. It engulfs you, pulling you deeper and deeper, away from the surface. You can’t see anything. The thick, bitter water enters your gills and your gaper as you struggle. You think this might be drowning.

_______________________________________________________________________________

> FEFERI: WORRY.

You’re watching Let’s plays and chilling at Sollux’ place. You have changed to comfier clothes and are currently devouring a bag of fish crackers that Sollux bought for you. The meeting was dreadfully long and boring, so you should be thrilled that you can relax and spend time with your matesprit, but you’re not. You lean into his shoulder, willing yourself to let it go and unwind, but the feeling won’t go away. You get up and check your palmhusk. _No new notifications._ Ugh.

“Relax, they’re probably fine” – says Sollux from the loungeplank.  
“I know” – you reply, going back to him. You are not convinced.

It’s been five hours since you last heard from Karkat. _What’s taking so long? What if Eridan isn’t even in LOWAA?_ You pat your pocket and groan as you realise that you wanted to take your palmhusk with you to the loungeplank. Sollux tosses a chip into his gaper and hovers your palmhusk to you using telekinesis simultaneously. You kiss him on the forehead.

“Maybe I shoal message him…”  
“Don’t.”  
“Why not?”

Sollux pauses the video, gets up from the loungeplank, and ties a snuggleplane around his shoulders. “How should I put this” – he begins, and then starts speaking in a pitchy voice - “Oh wwWoe is me, my royal buttcheeks have grown numb from sitting in LOWwwAA! But wwWhat’s this?” He feigns shock and picks up the remote. “Feferi wwWrote to me! Oh, joy! That must mean that she wwWants me back! I shall resume pestering her this instant!”

You are trying to look mad and not to chuckle, and are royally failing at both. Sollux unties the snuggleplane and drops back on the loungeplank. “See? Don’t worry. KK has ED’s back and I have his. Come here.” He unpauses the video.  
You lay back with Sollux and start paying attention to the video again. You feel better, but you are still hoping to get an update soon enough. You idly play with Sollux’ hair.

“I don’t know what I did to displease the horrorterrors so much” – muses Sollux – “but everyone in my friend circle has something to do with that douchebag. You, Karkat… I’m just waiting for Aradia to drag him into my hive one night.”  
You chuckle. “I can arrange trout for you, so you won’t have to whale anymore!”  
“FUCK no! I mean, I would rather not, Your Highness.” You roll your ganderbulbs at him.

_______________________________________________________________________________

> BE VRISKA?

No.

_______________________________________________________________________________

Fine. Be that way.

> BE KARKAT, BUT TWO HOURS IN THE FUTURE

A scrape of shoes against the ground shakes you from your sleep. You’ve managed to fall asleep after all, but not for a long time. You stretch and blink the sleep from your ganderbulbs, and a piece of fabric falls off of you. It’s Eridan’s cape, you realise, feeling your face heat up. You look across the church, but there’s no one there except you. You scramble to your strutpods and decaptchalogue your sickles. Eridan’s backpack is there, but he is gone.  
You walk outside and sigh with relief as you see Eridan sitting on the ground and watching the skies. He’s put his sweater and scarf back on. Ahab’s Crosshairs are in his fronds.

“Did you rest? Sorry if I woke you up.”  
You sit down next to him and captchalogue your sickles. “Yeah, wasn’t a fucking recuperacoon day’s rest, but it will do. You?”  
“Somewhat. I was havin’ daymares so I got up. Maybe it’s for the best, considerin’ where we are.” He nods to the skies.  
“Have you seen them?”  
“Not yet, but you never know.”

You bite your lip. You were gonna ask him once you’re back at his hive, but you are also very concerned, and a tad curious.

“So why did you come to LOWAA in the first place?”  
Eridan looks at you, really looks at you, and grunts. “I guess you deserve to know after all you went through for my sorry ass.” He shuffles.

“Everyone was progressin’ with their lands, some even reached the third gate by now. And I’m still fuckin’ stuck here! I am royalty with a legendary weapon, it shouldn’t be so fuckin’ hard!” He picks up a rock and throws it, and then leans his head on his frond. He is looking into the distance.  
“The only lead I had were the angels. I thought that if I secretly follow them, they will lead me to whatever I need to do to get the fuck out of here. Instead, I walked into a trap like a jackass. You saw the outcome.”  
“What happened?”  
Eridan scowls. “I don’t want to talk about it.”  
Your blood pusher sinks a little. _Doesn’t he trust me enough to tell me, after everything I’ve done?_  
You sigh. “Alright, but if you ever wanna talk about it, I’m here to listen.”  
You think that there might be a faint smile on his face. “Thanks, Kar. I don’t deserve what you’ve done for me, but I sure as hell appreciate it.”  
“That’s hoofbeastmanure. I’ve listened to you before, didn’t I?”  
“You did, but it was random shit, like that time Inyata Xanthi boasted about her *fake* designer dress or whatever. This is different.”

You decide to drop it and get up.  
“We should probably keep moving. We’ve got a long way ahead of us” – you tell Eridan. He nods and returns to the church with you to get your stuff. Neither of you is aware of a couple of angels, observing you from the distance.

“Should we go after them?” – One asks in the cryptic angel language.  
The small one shakes its head. “Let them go. They will be back soon enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, the next chapter launched a bit early ^^  
> Thanks for all the support!
> 
> Edit #1 (19/08/20) 413 hits and 50 kudos achieved simultaneously! Thank you so much everyone <333  
> Edit #2 (22/08/20) I added the tag "Flushed Romance | Matesprits" (referring to Sollux and Feferi)!  
> Also, you should know that this fanfic will probably be 10-12 chapters long, meaning that we're already halfway there!


	7. Friends, Online and Otherwise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Trauma, suicide mention.

> ERIDAN: STOP BEING AWKWARD.

You’re not being awkward!  
Well, okay, maybe a little. You’ve been walking for about an hour and neither of you has said anything. Truth be told, you’re struggling with your own thoughts at the moment, so you’re not in the mood for chit-chat.

Like, for example, how Karkat brushed his frond against you while he was patching you up. It was far warmer than you expected, so you’re pretty sure that he’s a lowblood, bronze or rust even. You glance at him. You’ve exchanged photos before, but this is the first time that you’ve seen him in real life. You’re weirdly thankful for the circumstances in which you’ve met – even if you were hardly presentable, at least you skipped the whole awkward “Wow, is that really you, I imagined you a bit differently” phase and just dove straight into… whatever this is. As if he read your mind, Karkat pipes up.

“You’re taller than I expected” – he says without turning to face you. He adjusts his arm a bit so you can lean on him better.  
You chuckle. “And you’re much shorter.” Karkat huffs angrily and flips you off. You laugh.  
“Well _excuse_ me, not everyone here got to grow up on fucking caviar and whatever other luxurious shit you got to eat.”  
You grin harder. “Sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you up here.”  
Karkat growls and kicks you in the shin. It hurts, but you can’t stop laughing. You skip and rub your strutpod as you keep walking. You hope it won’t bruise because you need that strutpod to steer Seahorsedad.

Speaking of which, Karkat never told you what happened to his lusus. You know the bare bones of the story, but no details, as Karkat didn’t want to talk about it. You clear your throat.

“Hey Kar?”  
“What?”  
“Do you wanna talk about what happened that night…?”

You mentally facepalm. _Sure thing, he is just itching to talk about what must be the most traumatic night of his life. Gog, I’m such an ass sometimes._ Karkat is side-glancing at you, and you’re surprised he didn’t tell you no yet.  
“Yeah, sure, but only if you tell me what happened at the church.”  
Whoa, you didn’t see that coming. “How’s that fair?”  
“You want to know because you’re curious, and I want to know because I’m worried about you. I call that fucking fair.”

You turn away and say nothing. You’ve been playing out everything that has happened at the church in your mind ever since you left it. The experience was horrible beyond words and left you feeling vulnerable, but you know that if you don’t take this opportunity and talk about it, you will just bottle everything up and take it out on yourself later. Your mind is screaming at you to stop, but you turn to Karkat and tell him that you will do it if he tells you his story first. He agrees. You walk for a bit in silence before he starts talking.

“There isn’t much to tell. I was watching videos on my husktop when rumbling and clanking of drones shook my hive. Lowblood raids aren’t uncommon in my neighbourhood, so I turned off my husktop and hid in the hatch under the floorboards.” You make a mental note that he pretty much just told you he’s a lowblood.  
“How often?”  
He shrugs. “Twice a wipe or so.”

Karkat takes a deep, shaky breath and continues. “Soon I noticed that something was off. Drones are fucking murder machines and can raze down a neighbourhood in less than an hour if they want to, so it was strange that they lingered in front of my hive without setting it on fire or splitting it in half.” You grow more uncomfortable with how he talks about this. _Did this happen to him multiple times?_

“After five more minutes of waiting, I left the hatch. I don’t know if it was anger or fear, but I couldn’t sit huddled and wait to be culled anymore. It’s not how anyone should fucking go, you know?” He looks at you, and his expression changes. You don’t know. You’re a highblood, and you live in the lap of luxury, away from the culling drones and daily struggles. It’s rare you even get to hear stuff like this – the Empire made sure of it. It’s their way of curbing empathy towards lowbloods.

“So I grabbed my sickles and ran to the window.” Karkat’s jaw is clenched. “And there was Crabdad, that poor idiot, charging at three full-grown drones. I mean, what was he thinking? The whole point of those things is to murder and turn shitbloods like me into paste, what did he think was gonna fucking happen?” He wipes a tear off his cheek and takes a deep breath. “Apparently, the drones came specifically for me. I grabbed what I could and ran out of the back door. I returned a few nights later to bury him, or what was left of him anyways, and moved a few neighbourhoods away.”  
“Why were they after you? What did you do?”  
Karkat looks to the side. “No fucking clue.” He sighs. “Well, that’s about it. I don’t think I've slept properly since, and it’s been three wipes. End of story.”

Only when he stops talking do you realise that your eyes are a bit wet. You think back to all the lusii you killed to feed Gl’bgolyb. You know that you are saving the entire troll race by making sure she stays fed and quiet, and you never discriminate – whichever lusus is big enough to feed her falls prey to you, burgundy and violet-blooded alike. Despite all of that, hearing Karkat’s story makes you think of Seahorsedad. Those lusii were someone’s parents, too – a fact you don’t like remembering.

You clear your throat. “Well, it’s kinda out there, and not very convenient” – you muse aloud – “but if it would make you feel safer and you would hypothetically want to, you could stay with me, I guess. Only if you want, though.” _Gog, why was that so hard to say?_  
Karkat looks at you and says nothing. He probably thinks you’re hitting on him. Yikes.

Itching to change the topic to something more favourable, you ask Karkat if he saw Seahorsedad on his way here. Karkat groans.  
“That experience alone will haunt me for sweeps. I was certain he was going to cull me, then and there.”  
“What, that sweet old thing?”  
“Ah, yes, because every guardian’s response to ‘an intruder in my charge’s hive’ is to make them grubcakes and scalding leaf fluid.”  
“So what happened? You don’t look culled to me, Vantas.” Karkat looks like he wishes he was.  
“He took me to your recuperacoon.”  
You snicker. “How awful a him. I have to make sure to reprimand him when we get back hive.” Karkat looks very tempted to kick you in the shin again. “Either way, next time you wanna visit, there’s a side entrance to the tower, in case you want to avoid my horrible, old lusus.”  
Karkat gives you a death stare. “THERE’S A SIDE ENTRANCE? WHY DIDN’T YOU FUCKING TELL ME!”  
“I didn’t know you were comin’, for fuck’s sake!”

You walk for a minute next to a very crabby Karkat until he turns to you again. “Well, I told you what happened to me. Your turn now.” Oh. You forgot about that. _Where do I even start?_

“I followed an angel inside - a wee thing, probably young or somethin’. Weird shit happened.”  
“What kind of weird shit?”  
You run your frond through your hair. “I would go into one of the arches and emerge at the entrance of the church again. Like there were portals or somethin’, and the angel kept leadin’ me through them.” Karkat is wide-bulbed but says nothing. “What’s worse, I shot the statue, and when I emerged at the entrance, it was whole again!”

Karkat’s expression is… strange. “You don’t believe me” – you say, disheartened.  
“I believe you” – he mutters - “it’s just weird. “  
“Well it gets weirder – the portal shit went on for a while until I passed out. And when I woke up, all a my stuff was gone, Crosshairs included. And the angels surrounded me, hundreds of them” – you gesture with your uninjured frond – “and one me. I tried to fight them, that’s where all the blood’s from. I showed them what’s what, I was just outnumbered.”  
“Dumbass” – Karkat mutters under his breath. _Ouch._

You remember what comes next and bite your lip. All of the stupidity of your decision dawns on you at this moment. You open your mouth but you stammer. Karkat notices it, slows down his pace and looks at you. It makes you even more nervous. You clear your throat.  
“So… what happened is that they offered me somethin’. They told me that they would let me go and give me my stuff back, and give me power” – your voice cracks – “but they would feed on my fears in exchange.”  
Karkat looks disturbed. “And if you said no?”  
“THERE WERE SO MANY OF THEM, KAR!” – You shout in desperation. Karkat halts. Your vision is blurry without your glasses, but the intensity of his stare doesn’t escape you. You drop your pan.

“You said yes” – Karkat whispers, pinching the bridge of his nose - “and you didn’t EVEN ASK FOR OTHER OPTIONS?” You don’t dare look at him. You let go of him and stammer off to a low wall made of limestone surrounding a neat village church to sit on it. As you do, Ahab’s Crosshairs clack on your back, the indisputable proof that Karkat got it all right. You think that he is still staring at you in disbelief. A spark of defiance lights in your chest, born out of desperation.  
“Yeah, I fuckin’ said yes – does it look like I had a fuckin’ choice?!” You extend your right arm as much as you can to drive the point home. “You have no right to judge me for what I have done because you were not there! It was my life on the line, for fuck sake, not yours!” The anger in your chest blooms and spreads like wildfire. You jump off the wall. “Do you fuckin’ know what they did to me?” Karkat is still silent, but all the intensity in him is gone. “Imagine sittin’ for hours on end on the floor, like last cullbait trash, and listenin’ to a thousand whispers tellin’ you to go off yourself! That you will never amount to anythin’, and that you’d do everyone a favour by removin’ yourself from their lives! Does it fuckin’ sound like I am not aware a how stupid that was? Fuck, I also wished they just culled me instead!” You’re panting. You notice that Karkat isn’t in front of you anymore, but sitting on the wall behind you. You walk back to it and sit next to him. He looks equal parts scared, sad, and confused. You give him a long stare.  
“They went into my pan, Karkat” – you half-whisper – “and they turned it inside out. I saw you, and Feferi, and Kanaya… And whatever they told me, it… It’s so believable when it’s someone else tellin’ you these things and not you. And even if they were lyin’, I know that some of them are true.” Your laugh is shaky. “Would you not have been better off at your hive instead of riskin’ your life for me?”

Karkat’s lip twitches as he leans in and starts wiping your tears away with his thumbs. You freeze.  
“Hey, don’t fucking say that. Don’t even fucking think about it, you hear me? You have me.” You look up at him. You wish you could see him better now.  
“Life’s a bitch, okay? We’ve both felt it on our skin. But that doesn’t mean shit. You’re not alone, you can count on me to be there for you because I want to be. Doesn’t that matter, at least a little bit?” You wipe your face and hug him, and to your surprise, he hugs you back. You wish you could have this every day, to the end of your life – the support, that is, not endless torture. His hair tickles your cheek and he is strangely warm, even through his clothes.

Eventually, Karkat pulls back.  
“So what about these new powers? Was it worth it in the end?”  
You shrug. “If I got any, they didn’t manifest yet. I reckon they probably just swindled me and got what they wanted.”  
Karkat sighs. “Let’s go back to your hive. It was a long night for both of us.”  
“Couldn’t agree more.”

_______________________________________________________________________________

> KARKAT: STEP THROUGH THE PORTAL.

If you had more power, you would run through it. _Fuck the motion sickness and fuck safety regulations! Whoever wrote those has probably never been to LOWAA!_ However, you are dead tired, so you just walk through it instead. As soon as you find yourself in the block at the top of the tower, you hear the acid rain drumming on the roof and thunder in the distance. Your palmhusk, now having reception, vibrates several times. Eridan walks in after you and lays on the loungeplank, taking up absolutely all space and being dramatic as fuck about it.

“Make some space, you dipshit” – you groan. Eridan wiggles his eyebrows at you and pats his lap, not moving otherwise. You pinch his shin and sit down on the loungeplank when he curls his strutpods up. The nerve!  
“What did my shins ever do to you?” – He whines, making a sad puppy face.  
“Stop me from a well-deserved rest?” – You reply, leaning back on the loungeplank. Thunder booms louder outside, shaking the tower. You jump up. “Actually, I changed my fucking mind. Can we go?” Eridan laughs.  
“Don’t worry, this tower isn’t goin’ anywhere.”  
“I’ve had enough stress for one fucking night.”  
“Alright, alright.” He gets up and stretches. “Can I borrow your palmhusk?”

You warily hand it to him. “Tap on anything except the dial and I will throw you out into the rain.” Eridan rolls his bulbs and mouths a “fuck you” as he takes the husk. He types in the number and leans it on his ear, says a few words you don’t understand, quits the call, and returns the palmhusk to you. “Thanks.”  
“So, are we going?”  
Eridan scoffs. “Fuck no. I called Seahorsedad. He’ll be pickin’ us up in a minute.”  
You look at him in disbelief. “Then what’s the fucking zigzag incline for?”  
“Decoration, mostly. What, don’t tell me that you expected me to walk all this way? When I’m not sneakin’ into LOWAA, that is” – he clarifies sheepishly.  
You look down the tower and see his lusus rising up through the space in the middle of the winding staircase. “Of course, as if the great and mighty Eridan Ampora would bring himself so low. Walking is for lowbloods and other trash.” He laughs before he realises who he’s standing next to and shuts up. You shake your pan.

In a few seconds, Seahorsedad emerges and snorts. You consider asking Eridan to introduce you, but he is already saddling up and adjusting the reins. “Front or back?” – He asks you.  
“Back, I guess” – you mutter and approach. Eridan smiles encouragingly at you. Seahorsedad doesn’t seem to give a slightest fuck.  
“Put your nub here” – he gestures to the right stirrup, removing his nub from it – “and then use momentum to throw your other nub over.” You try and get it right on the second go. _Fuck yeah, go Vantas._  
“You might wanna hold on!” – Eridan tells you with a smile and clicks his tongue. On cue, Seahorsedad starts descending _very quickly_. Before you know it, you are hugging Eridan around his waist and screaming your lungs out. Eridan is choking from laughter.  
“Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall! Just hold on”  
You keep screaming anyways until your nubs touch solid ground. “I’m going to fucking kill you” is the first thing you hiss at Eridan as you’re walking through his bookhive. He finds it amusing.

You pass through his respiteblock, through a hallway, and finally emerge in a spacious, well-lit block. Fluffy white carpets and curtains with golden trims decorate the guestblock. The recuperacoon is absolutely huge and lavish, decorated with golden seahorses with tiny amethyst eyes. Eridan strides inside while you’re still taking in everything and opens the wardrobe.  
“You have some towels and a change a clothes here. The ablutionblock is to the left.” He smiles politely. “If you need anythin’, don’t hesitate to let me know. I’ll go for an ablution.”  
You hum. “Ditto. Meet you at your respiteblock in 30 minutes?”  
Eridan cringes. “One hour?”  
“One hour it is.”  
He nods to you and leaves. Before he closes the door, you hear a snort and a hushed “I _told_ you, we are _not_ \- “.

You take a good look around. This block is nearly bigger than your old hive and definitely bigger than your new one. The view through the window is astounding in the early morning. The rain has now stopped, and the sea is a peculiar shade of green. You watch the rolling waves, thankful that you don’t have to swim anymore.  
After enjoying the scenery for a bit, you pull the blinds and turn away, grab the clothes and the towels, and head to the ablutionblock. When you open the doors, your jaw hits the floor. There’s marble and gold everywhere and the ablution trap could probably host a fleet, judging by the size. You don’t feel fit to even breathe here, but the grime makes up your mind. You unclothe yourself and enter the trap. _Jegus fuck, everything here is so fucking Ampora._ Exclusive shampoos and conditioners line the trap. In the end, you spend more time reading what’s inside the bottles than actually cleaning yourself. You pick a coffee-scented shampoo and a musky, peppery shower gel, hoping that they will energise you a little. While you shower, you consider Eridan’s offer but decide not to burden yourself with choices and responsibilities tonight. You walk out of the ablutionblock feeling refreshed and dress up in comfy sweatpants and a plain, black T-shirt. You sit on the armchair, plug your husktop in and check the time. _25 minutes left._ Trollian pops up with several messages.

\--  twinArmageddons [TA] began pestering  carcinoGeneticist [CG]  at 08:12 -- 

TA: are you dead yet

_How endearing._

\--  carcinoGeneticist [CG] is now online! 

CG: NO, STILL KICKING, YOU SLIME.  
TA: 2o what happened  
TA: ii already have 2ome gue22e2, ii just want you to prove me riight  
CG: TOO FUCKING BAD BECAUSE I’M TOO TIRED TO TELL YOU ABOUT ALL THE EXCITING SHIT YOU MISSED OUT ON.  
TA: wiith ED? ii 2omehow doubt iit  
CG: GUESS YOU WILL NEVER KNOW.  
TA: KK you are beiing 2uch an a22  
CG: WE’RE BOTH ALIVE AND IN ONE PIECE. THAT’S ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW.  
CG: YOU CAN FORWARD IT TO FEFERI, ALTHOUGH I THINK ERIDAN WILL MESSAGE HER ANYWAYS.  
TA: tell me one thiing

You wait, but no new messages come your way.

CG: WHAT THING?  
TA: iidk KK giive me 2OMETHIING

You groan and wonder what you can tell him that will not irreparably ruin Eridan’s trust in you.

CG: JEGUS CHRIST FINE  
CG: YOU’RE TRYING REALLY HARD BTW. GETTING A LITTLE <3< IN HERE IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.  
TA: fuck you  
CG: BUT SINCE YOU ASKED SO NICELY  
CG: HE HAS AN ACCENT.  
TA: what do you mean  
CG: HIS QUIRK ISN’T RANDOM. THAT’S ABSOLUTELY HOW HE TALKS.  
TA: you mean to tell me that he pronounce2 the ww  
CG: EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM AND SOME THAT AREN’T EVEN FUCKING THERE. I’VE NEVER HEARD ANYONE TALK LIKE THAT. MUST BE A HIGHBLOOD THING.  
TA: get hiim to pronounce powwow and 2end iit to me  
CG: HAHAHAHA NO.  
CG: ASK HIM YOURSELF, YOU COWARD.

\--  carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased pestering  twinArmageddons [TA]  at 09:44 -- 

_Alright, one asshole down._ You quickly message Feferi and tell her you’re both alive, just in case Eridan doesn’t. That leaves you with one more chat window – someone named _arachnidsGrid_ sent you a request. It takes you a moment until it clicks. _Seriously?_  
You bite down the bitter realisation that if it hadn’t been for Vriska, Eridan could have died. For that (and the off chance that she might tell you something useful again), you accept the request.

\--  carcinoGeneticist [CG]  began pestering  arachnidsGrid [AG]  at 09:48 -- 

CG: HELLO THERE, UNKNOWN AND COMPLETELY ANONYMOUS STRANGER.  
CG: WHATEVER BRINGS YOU TO MY REALM OF CYBERSPACE?  
AG: oh cut the crap Cra88y  
AG: I need to know if that twink is down to FLARP next wipe or not  
AG: so ask him  
CG: I MIGHT IF YOU TELL ME HOW YOU KNEW.  
AG: 8888)  
CG: I GUESS I WON’T ASK HIM. BYE, SPIDERBITCH!  
AG: w8 ugh you’re literally such a drag  
AG: what the fuck do you want  
CG: HOW DID YOU KNOW ABOUT ERIDAN? WHY DID YOU TELL ME TO CHECK UP ON HIM.  
AG: H8H8H8H8! Oh my gog.  
AG: <> much? >8888D

You lean back in the chair and massage your temples. _Why am I even having this conversation?_ Before you get a chance to close the chat window, you see that she is typing.

AG: Lemme tell you one thing, Cra88y.  
AG: Try FLARPing sometimes. You can really learn a lot about other trolls!  
AG: Like Eridan? He is a biiiiiiiig fucking loser. I sank his ship and left the remains of his crew for him. I expected some platonic rivalry out of it, 8ut nothing happened.  
AG: Unusual for someone as pathetic and desperate as him, not to mention vengeful.  
AG: I don’t care a8out his pitch advances, 8ut I need a good adversary for FLARP to make sense. And since there’s nothing 8ut cull8ait and wimps like Tavros around, I need him to 8e top game so that the victory makes any fucking sense.  
AG: And if he is mopey and misses FLARP sessions, I have no one decent to play against.  
AG: There, fucking happy? Now ask him.  
AG: And if you tell anyone a8out what I told you  
AG: I will wreck your shit 8888)  
CG: OOH IM SO FUCKING SCARED. WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO, CALL THE FLARP POLICE ON ME?  
AG: Fuck around and find out, Cra8sickles.

\--  arachnidsGrid [AG]  ceased pestering  carcinoGeneticist [CG]  at 09:55 -- 

_Well, that was enriching!_ You’re about to close the Trollian window, but yet another message window pops up. _Do these assholes have nothing else to do?!_

\--  caligulasAquarium [CA] began pestering  carcinoGeneticist [CG]  at 09:55 -- 

CA: hey kar  
CA: the vvelvvety rump has found the time to respond to the shouty crab  
CG: OH MY FUCKING GODS. IM LITERALLY TWO BLOCKS AWAY FROM YOU, AMPORA.  
CA: im dryin my hair  
CA: so wwhat did you wwant to talk about wwhen you messaged me yesterday  
CG: IT’S NOTHING. GO BACK TO YOUR HAIR PRODUCTS.  
CA: awwww come on kar  
CA: you can tell me  
CG: FINE. I WANTED TO ASK IF I COULD TAG ALONG THE NEXT TIME YOU WENT TO LOWAA.  
CG: I KNOW, IM A BULGE-FOR-BRAINS THAT PROMISED THAT LIKE SIXTY SWEEPS AGO AND THEN PROMPTLY CLOSED HIMSELF IN HIS RESPITEBLOCK TO FONDLE WITH HIS BULGE INSTEAD.  
CG: SO I WANTED TO MAKE THINGS RIGHT  
CG: BUT AS YOU CAN SEE, THERE WAS NO FUCKING NEED TO TALK ABOUT THIS, AS I WAS ALREADY THERE WITH YOU, FOR FUCKS SAKE  
CG: YOU CHOOSE THE WORST VACATION SPOTS, AMPORA.  
CA: And wwhat wwould you prefer instead?  
CG: I DON’T KNOW, LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE.  
CA: wwell I’m a bit wworse for the wwear from all a that, but wwe can arrange somethin I guess  
CA: howw does a movvie night in my privvate cinema sound  
CG: LIKE SIXTY-NINE HUNDRED TIMES BETTER THAN SCREAMING MONOCHROMATIC MONSTROSITIES  
CG: ALSO WHY ARE WE STILL TEXTING  
CG: ALSO CAN WE EAT SOMETHING  
CA: wwoww wwhat a question  
CA: meet you in the meal block  
CA: first floor, second door to the left  


\--  caligulasAquarium [CA] ceased pestering  carcinoGeneticist [CG]  at 10:03 -- 

You close your husk and head downstairs. You hear Eridan’s nubsteps ahead of you as you descend the wooden zigzag incline. As you go through what must be a reception block, you pause to check it out. There’s a colossal painting of Orphaner Dualscar, posing on a cliff with the sea splashing him. His boots are stained with blood, and his expression is merciless and cold. As much as you can draw the similarities between them, you somehow can’t see Eridan in his place. Next to this painting are three small photos representing Eridan’s first grubschool day, young Eridan riding Seahorsedad, and Eridan in a wizard outfit.

You snap out of your melancholic thoughts when you hear Eridan calling you from the meal block. “Coming!” – You shout and head there. When you enter, you see Eridan and Seahorsedad bickering. You awkwardly linger in the doorway until Eridan turns to face you. And you try, you really do, but you can’t suppress your laughter when you see Eridan completely covered in flour in front, glasses included. He looks pissed, but it’s hard to take someone seriously when they look like a cheap ghost prop.  
“What the fuck happened to you?”  
“I TOLD him that the flour bag is opened on the other side!” – He exclaims, pointing an accusatory nub at Seahorsedad. “Look at me! I just came out of the fuckin’ ablution trap!”  
Seahorsedad snorts at Eridan.  
“I am six sweeps old. I’m old enough to curse!”  
Seahorsedad approaches Eridan and fluffs his hair, sending white puffs of flour everywhere. Eridan sighs dramatically.  
“Well, I guess I need an ablution… _again_. I’ll be back in fifteen, Kar. Don’t set anything on fire.” And with those words, he disappears. You hear his nubsteps echo upstairs.

You sit at the table and pull your palmhusk out. While you read some article about olivebloods demanding to be considered midbloods based on their importance to society, you hear a _thump_. You look up and see a violet mug with coffee resting on the table. You thank Seahorsedad and go back to reading while sipping on coffee. It’s creamy and not quite as strong as you’d like, but you know better than to complain about something like that. Every time you look up from your palmhusk, there’s more food on the table. Fried swordfish, caviar and fresh bread, tuber paste, grubcakes, cluckbeast embryos… It becomes increasingly more difficult for you to focus on the article as the tantalising scents fill the block. When Eridan walks back in, hair still partially wet and messy, you start shovelling food onto your plate. Eridan sits down and regards you with mild amusement. You pile your plate with grubcakes and dig in.

“Vriska sends her regards” is the first thing you say once you’ve torn through one and a half pancake. Eridan freezes and lifts his pan to look at you.  
“You’re fu- messin’ with me, aren’t you?”  
“Wish I was.” You put a chunk of swordfish on your plate. “She asked me to ask you if you’re up to FLARP next wipe.”  
“Because I blocked her” – he groans.  
“I blocked her too, she made an alt account to ask me to ask you” – you reply with amusement. Eridan’s bulbs open wide and he scoots closer to you.  
“She’s really jumpin' hurdles to get to me, huh” – he remarks, looking smug as fuck. Something comes to his mind and his smile falters. “Hold up. How did she know you’re with me?”  
“She was the one that told me to go check on you” – you say nonchalantly. Eridan almost chokes on his food.  
“Okay, you’re definitely messin’ with me now.”  
You unlock your palmhusk and show the message to him. He looks baffled. “And you listened to her?”  
“Good thing I did.” You eye the bread. It calls you.  
As you put more food on your plate, Eridan goes back to his. You notice that he’s barely touched his food, and is typing away on his palmhusk. You nudge him with your elbow and he looks up at you. “Eat.” To your surprise, he puts away the palmhusk and digs in.

After you’re so stuffed that you can barely breathe, you lean back in your chair. Eridan also seems sated. “I can’t move” – you whisper to him. He chuckles. Seahorsedad starts cleaning up the table.  
“What movie do you wanna watch?” – You ask him. Eridan hums.  
“Why don’t you choose instead?” – He retorts. You roll your bulbs.  
“How am I supposed to know which movies you have, you bulgebiter?”  
“I have three screaming services; I should probably have them all.”  
“Oh” is all you can muster to say. _Fuck. That’s a lot of pressure._ You don’t even know what he likes! You end up choosing a romantic movie that shouldn’t be _too_ emotional, hoping that he will like it. Of course, you fuck up and have a cryfest instead, sobbing into your sleeve while Eridan taps away at his face with tissues. You exit the cinema in good spirits and head upstairs with Eridan.

“Let’s go to the bookhive, I want to show you somethin’.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! I apologise for the irregular updating schedule... Sometimes I am so inspired that I dish out an entire chapter at once, and sometimes I struggle with one part for days. ^_^'  
> As always, let me know what you think!  
> Thank you for the kudos and comments!
> 
> Edit #1 (25/08/20) Added 'suicide mention' to trigger warnings at the beginning of the chapter.


	8. (Update - Short hiatus!)

Hey guys, just wanted to let you know that I'm on a short vacation, so expect the next chapter in about 10 days or so! Thanks for your patience and take care!


	9. Emotions, Expressed and Repressed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Transphobic/unaccepting parent, blood

> KARKAT: GO (AFTER THE) FISH.

Eridan opens the doors to his bookhive and waits for you to enter. You slip inside and sit on the loungeplank, stretching your shoulders and listening to the rhythmical clacking of the machinery closing the secret door. The scent of ink and old books fills the place as usual. Eridan hums and browses through the shelves until he pulls out a hefty, roughly bound notebook, sits criss-cross grubmeal sauce next to you and places it in his lap. It’s tattered and worn, but obviously well-loved. Candlelight glints off of the golden Aquarius sign on the covers.

“What’s that?”  
“It’s my research.” He opens up the notebook and quickly flips through the first half. “These are my studies for the Academy and the trials. That’s not important.” You manage to catch a glimpse of his handwriting, cursive and narrow. When he reaches the middle, he stops flipping through and hands it to you.

At first glance, it’s just six pages of dense handwriting that takes you a bit to decipher, but soon you begin noticing a pattern. These are passages from other books, rewritten and cited. They all talk about angels.

“It’s all I could find about them. Even these were near fuckin’ impossible to find” – Eridan remarks, furrowing his brow. “Not to mention expensive.”

Most passages rehash the same facts - angels can be white and black, pointy teeth, live in choirs. You notice that Eridan has scrawled Xs in violet ink next to some passages and written remarks like “as if” and “blubberin load of hoofbeastshit” next to others. There is only one intact passage – a short one, written in a journalistic style.

“ (…) _\-- > You would not believe how friendly these white beasties can be! I set up a camp not far away from their roost, and they came and began talking to me! I know it sounds shithive maggots, but what kind of a researcher would I be if I missed out on an opportunity to talk to the very subjects of my research? They’re asking me to tell them about my adventures and promising to reward me for it, too! I know that you are sitting on the edge of your seat, but don’t worry – as soon as I’m back, I will tell you everything! We’re going to be rich! <\-- _ ~ Dorath Exlora (Exlora 231)

“That sounds like a cheap adventure movie if I ever saw one. Is there more?” – You ask Eridan. He grimaces.  
“That’s the thing – this is the last passage on the last page of that book. It’s the best lead I have.” He takes his glasses off and rubs his ganderbulbs. You notice how tired he looks – there are faint circles under his ganderbulbs, where the concealer rubbed off a bit. “It proves that the angels talk and make deals, but I found out that much myself. Fuckin’ useless.”  
“What happened to Exlora?”  
“Someone probably sent him to sleep with the fishes for his annoyin’ writing style and indecipherable handwriting. Can’t say I blame them.”

Well. If this is the best lead he has, then you are pretty much fucked, which checks out. As if anything related to LOWAA or Eridan can be simple.  
“We can think about angels and other murderous fauna tomorrow. Let’s coon.” You get up from the loungeplank, suddenly feeling way more tired than you thought you were. Eridan is staring pensively at the notebook.  
“You can go if you’re feelin’ tired. I need to jot down a few things.”  
“Fine, I’ll see you tonight then. Good morning.”  
“Good morning.”

You drag yourself to the guestblock, refusing to think about anything - this day has been a rollercoaster and you deserve some fucking rest. You brush your teeth and head straight for the coon. You test the sopor with your point stump and find it too cold (probably adjusted to seadwellers), so you crank up the heating and tap away on your husk until it’s just the way you like it. You slip into the warm embrace of sopor and immediately fall asleep.

_______________________________________________________________________________

> ERIDAN: BE SOMEWHERE ELSE.

_Where?_

The dark expanse echoes with your question. You’re naked, alone, and very hungry for some reason.  
You reach up in the darkness, but your fronds hit a rubbery surface. Wherever you reach, you’re met with resistance. _Can I escape?_  
Giving up on your surroundings, you turn to yourself instead. You are itchy. You reach for your arm to scratch it, but a loud bang sounds off in the distance and everything fades into nothingness.

_______________________________________________________________________________

> KARKAT: WAKEY WAKEY, CLUCKBEAST EMBRYOS AND PORKBEAST STRIPS

You wake up well into the night and stretch. This has to have been the best sleep you’ve had in ages – not having to fear the drones and having a king-sized recuperacoon all to yourself did miracles on your tired body. You practically jump out of the coon and prance off to the ablution trap. You wonder how it feels to be this carefree your whole life.

As you’re letting the water stream down your face, you decide to meet up with Eridan. Once you dry yourself off and put on some clothes, you go to the door of his block and knock. You wait a few moments and knock again. Nothing. _It’s unusual for Eridan to sleep this long._ You decide to go back to the guestblock and catch up to some sitcoms on your husktop. After an hour, you go back and knock again, steel yourself and open the doors. To your surprise, there are no sopor trails on the ground. _Either he has a very effective cleaning service or this fucker didn’t go to sleep at all._ You trigger the mechanism, enter his bookhive, and confirm the latter – Eridan wakes up with a start and a paper glued to his face. His glasses are askew and he looks completely disoriented. Candlewax covers the table.

“Eridan, what the _fuck_?”  
He groans and drops his pan back down. “For fucks sake Kar, you scared me” – he mumbles into a pile of papers.  
You huff and walk in, grabbing him by the shoulders. He jumps with a start. “Coon. Now.”  
“Mreim ntired…”  
“Get your ass off that chair or so help me, I will drag you there myself.”

Too tired to protest, Eridan gets up and follows you to his coon. You untangle his scarf and put his glasses on the daystand. “If I don’t see you asleep in fifteen minutes, I will kick your ass.” Eridan half-heartedly salutes you and looks over his shoulder. You exit the block and come back to peek exactly 15 minutes later. When you see his pan resting on the side of the coon, you close the doors and let him sleep.

_So much for hanging out. What the fuck am I supposed to do?_

You remember the book that you took before you went to LOWAA and head back to your block to read it. It’s a pitch-to-flushed novel set in a village, describing a strange relationship between a secretly rich gardener and a noble that lost all her inheritance. It captivates you so much that you lose the sense of time, so only when you hear a knock on your doors do you realise that you’ve read half of it. You reluctantly put the book down and get up to open the doors. It’s Eridan.

“What’s up?”  
You check the clock. It hasn’t been that long since you sent him off to sleep, two hours give and take.  
“You are, even though you shouldn’t be” – you reply, crossing your arms. Eridan rolls his bulbs and grabs you around the shoulders, effectively dragging you out of the block. “Yeah, whatever you say, second lusus. Come on, you wanna see this.” You follow him to the bookhive, expecting that he will show you the results of his research that he stayed up so early for, but instead, he passes the desk without so much as a side glance and opens the doors to the tower. You instinctively tense at the sight of it and dig your heels in, but he practically pulls you inside. To your surprise, he takes a key out of his pocket and pushes it into a gap between the bricks. A quiet, whirring sound echoes in the tower and a hidden panel slides aside, revealing a large balcony. The delicate scent of flowers fills the air. You step onto the balcony, ganderbulbs filled with wonder, and look up at the night sky. Never were you allowed to experience it so fearlessly. The sea stretches for miles on the horizon, and the twin moons’ reflection playfully dances in the water. Eridan’s laughter snaps you back to reality.

“Gorgeous, isn’t it?”  
“It’s fucking beautiful” – you mutter, walking forward and grabbing the top of the rails. They’re tall ( _of course they are_ ), so you have to stand on your toes to look over them. Now that the initial wonder washed over you, you’ve begun to pay attention to details. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Alternia like this, big and wondrous. It’s like a different world that you wish you could explore without fear and the need to hide. The starry sky, framed with ivy, roses, and plants you’ve never seen before, seems to dull the feeling that you’re on Alternia, letting nothing but the sea breeze and the chirping of crickets reach you. A bright spot catches your bulb – not a star, but a dancing flame in the far distance, possibly some lowblood’s hive. You step back from the rails and turn to Eridan. You catch him staring at you before he clears his throat and looks away. You can’t know this, but the way he stared at you matched the way you stared at the starry landscape of Alternia just moments ago.

“Dad had this built when I was just a grub, to help me with my astronomy studies” – he tells you, sighing wistfully. “Not the best one I’ve seen, but it has sentimental value.”  
“Are you fucking kidding me? It’s incredible!”  
Eridan nods. “Makes you feel small, doesn’t it?”

You go back to stare at the sky some more. For a second, you worry about being seen (purely out of habit) but looking below you lifts that worry. The trolls are tinier than ants from up here, walking in long processions on well-lit streets, entering glass-box restaurant and driving scuttlebuggies that could fit on your palm by the dozen. Eridan joins you, but he looks up instead. He traces some invisible shapes in the sky with two point stumps and smiles. “Check this out” – he says and points further down the horizon. “That’s the Big Wheel constellation. We use it for celestial navigation. It’s one a the first ones that you learn.”  
You stand as high as you can on your toes and squint in the direction he’s pointing to. “I can’t fucking see it. What am I looking for here?”  
“Two stars that are bigger than others nested together.”  
You squint and search but you can’t find them. “Stupid tall rails for tall trolls” – you mutter to yourself, propping yourself up. Your search is rudely interrupted when you shriek and feel your strutpods leave the ground. “Allow me to rectify this immediately” – Eridan says, chuckling. He grabs you around your waist with his left arm and lifts you up. You are happy for the ships below because now you are a beacon of glowing red for them to use like a goddamn lighthouse!

Eridan points with his right stump again. “Look there, where there’s smoke in the distance. It’s a bit above that, to the right a the pink moon.”  
And you do spot it. You nod wordlessly. Eridan puts you back on the ground.  
“That’s what I use to navigate when all a my fancy instruments fail, just like Dualscar did.”

You stare at the landscape for a few more silent minutes. You can’t get enough of it.  
“Let’s grab somethin’ to eat” – Eridan half-whispers. “You can go back here later if you want to. I’ll leave you the key.”  
You nod and head after him, giving Alternia one last glance before heading inside.

Eridan motions for you to stay in the bookhive and leaves. You don’t question it and sit back on the loungeplank, resuming the novel. Two pages later, he returns warily.  
“Dad’s asleep” – he says, visibly uncomfortable. “Is orderin’ fine?”  
“Fine with me” – you say. “What are we ordering?”  
Turns out that Eridan’s idea of ‘ordering’ is ‘getting a meal for six from three different restaurants’. He doesn’t want to hear about you paying for any of it, and suggests that you try the salmon-caviar appetizers. While you stuff your plate high with anything your pump biscuit desires, you decide that hey, if you’re going to die, it might as well be from delicious food and not drones burning your hive down with you. To your surprise, Eridan does the same, stuffing a piece of salmon pate toast in his mouth as he walks between the dishes.  
One hour and an ungodly amount of food later, you go watch a movie of Eridan’s choice. You fear getting used to this because you know that you will eventually have to go back to your own sour reality, but it’s difficult not to give in. As you settle into the plush seat, you decide to enjoy it while it lasts.

It’s not particularly early when you finish the comedy about pitch romance in space, so you go to Eridan’s block and chill. Eventually, he breaks the silence.  
“Hey Kar?”  
“Mm?”  
Eridan gets up from his chair and walks to you. “Can you keep a secret?”  
You look up from your palmhusk. “Is someone dead or about to die?”  
Eridan ponders it theatrically. “Nah, not this time I’m afraid.”  
“Then fucking go for it.”  
Eridan opens his huge wardrobe, and the moment he does, someone knocks on the door. Eridan slams the wardrobe shut and goes to open the door. He exchanges a few words with Seahorsedad before he leaves and Eridan closes the doors, looking both relieved and rattled.  
“He just wanted to know if we ate” – he whispers. You don’t know what he wants to show you, but judging by his reactions, it’s something big. You’re sitting on the edge of the loungeplank.

Eridan warily opens the wardrobe again, pauses to listen, and once he’s convinced that his lusus isn’t coming back soon, he digs in and pulls something out. You’re immediately captivated by a sea of glitter on the violet material. Eridan holds it up and it gracefully unfolds to the ground. It’s… a dress? You don’t know what to say at first.

“Is it yours?” – you ask him. Eridan nods briskly. He’s blushing to the tips of his earfins. He puts the dress on his chest, letting you imagine him wearing it with ease.  
“It’s very nice. What occasion is it for?”  
At these words, Eridan’s fins droop a little, and he shoves it back into the closet. “Nothin’ in particular… I liked it so I got it” – he mumbles.  
Seeing your confusion, he sits next to you on the loungeplank and nods to the doors. “He hates it” – he whispers – “if he knew I bought a dress again, I would be in big trouble.” Your pusher sinks.  
“Why?”  
Eridan rolls his bulbs and lays back. “He’s always been like that. He told me I ‘need to set an example as a True Aquarius should’.” Eridan says these words in a tone of absolute mockery and huffs. “Like it’s my fuckin’ fault that I have a good fashion sense! I don’t care about what Dualscar wore or what the academy will fuckin’ say!” There’s a growl to his voice, but you can tell he’s upset.

You act without thinking. It’s only when you see your frond on Eridan’s face that you realise what you were about to do. You pull your frond back and let out a shaky breath. _What the fuck!_ You stare at each other for a moment before Eridan gets up.  
“I-I need to study” – he mumbles, grabbing a stack of books and papers from his desk. “I’ll be in my bookhive.”  
“I’ll be in my block” – you reply and leave in a hurry. It’s only when you’re in the ablution trap that you truly let yourself breathe. _Why the fuck did I do that?_

_______________________________________________________________________________

> ERIDAN: HAVE A MILD FREAKOUT

Haha, wow, you must be joking. Eridan doesn’t do “mild freakouts”. Have you been paying attention?  
Eridan is lying face-down on the loungeplank in his bookhive, breathing heavily, and trying to deal with his emotions. Not his strong suit, but at least he’s trying. Let’s give both of them a minute to process what happened, shall we?

_______________________________________________________________________________

> READER: BE YOURSELF.

I see you’ve gotten used to being somebody else. Why don’t you be yourself for a bit? You are wonderful in your own ways too, after all. Fucking superb, you funky little reader.

Karkat will stay in his block and ponder his whole life until he will realise that avoiding Eridan will only make things more awkward and go find him. Meanwhile, Feferi is playing the game of “when can I message Eridan without making him think that I’m scrambling to get back with him”. Apparently, the time is now.

\--  cuttlefishCuller [CC] began pestering  caligulasAquarium [CA]  at 07:40 -- 

CC: –Eridan! Are you t)(ere?  
CC: I swung by your )(ive )(alibut I didn’t sea you!  
CC: Is everyfin okay?  
CA: hey fef  
CA: yea don’t wworry about it  
CC: I was worreed! You disappiered wit)(out a word 38(  
CC: Karcrab was also looking for you, we boat messaged you but you never replied  
CC: –Eridan?  
CC: )(ello??  
CC: You betta not be doing it again!

\--  caligulasAquarium [CA] ceased pestering  cuttlefishCuller [CC]  at 07:44 -- 

Finally, the Prince will realise that he got played like a goddamn fiddle and start piecing the puzzles together, leaving poor Feferi on Seen (or, rather, _Sea_ n). But enough of that for now– let’s get back to our favourite crab.

_______________________________________________________________________________

> KARKAT: DO IT.

It’s been an hour or so since you ran off to your block. You’d burrow yourself in here forever if you could, but you don’t want to sit and wait for Eridan to come knocking. Instead, you choose to be the one to break the ice and head to the bookhive. If he’s studying, he ought to be there.

You swallow thickly and knock on his block’s doors. As you expected, there’s no response, but you enter anyway. You stand in his block, not sure what to say. _Sorry I spilled my pale feelings? Sorry I can’t stand to see you so fucking upset?_ You groan and pull the tome out. _I’ll think of it on the spot._ Your palms are sweaty.

You brace yourself, but Eridan’s not there. Papers are carelessly scattered on the floor and the loungeplank, and some even seem to have been stepped on. You go to Eridan’s desk and blow out a candle that was precariously close to his stack of books.

You reach into your pocket, fish out a key, and go check the balcony, but it’s empty, too. You stare at the expanse for a few seconds, but it does nothing to calm you down. You lock the doors behind you and go back to his block. Only then do you notice that the light in his ablutionblock is on. _Fucking incredible, Vantas. Good job freaking out over him taking a goddamn piss!_ You sit on his loungeplank and unlock your palmhusk.

Minutes pass. You know that Eridan takes his time with self-care, but you stay put. You are determined to see this through. Nervous jitters keep you from truly relaxing. You still don’t know what to say.

A crashing sound from the ablutionblock shakes you from your stupor. It’s followed by the sound of shattering glass. You jump up and knock on the doors.  
“Eridan?”  
You grab the handle and pull. The doors swing open, revealing utter chaos inside. The floor is slippery and there’s a strong smell of cologne. The mirror is partially shattered and the sink is full of glass. There are pinpricks of violet blood everywhere, mainly on the trap curtain. You tug it aside and see Eridan, curled in the large trap, fully clothed and wheezing.

“Eridan? What the fuck? Eridan?”  
He looks up at you. _Oh, crap._ His arms are all scratched and covered in light blood. There’s something black on the bottom of the trap, but you can’t discern what.  
“HELP ME” – Eridan sobs, tearing something off his arm. His skin is darker in places and seems to have a rough texture to it. You put a frond over your mouth when you see what flutters to the bottom of the trap. _He is growing feathers. Those are all his. Fuck!_  
Seeing your reaction, Eridan covers his face. “Go, please, Kar. GO.”

You jump into the trap and put your shaky arms around him. At first, it seems like he will break off and run, but he leans into it instead. He is colder to the touch than the empty trap you’re both in. You pull him closer and start gently scratching his skin, shooshing him.  
“It’s okay, don’t worry, I’m here for you. We’ll figure something out. It’s okay.”  
Eridan hugs you around your waist like you will drift away if he lets go. His loud sobs slowly turn into quieter ones. Shivers run down your spine as you slightly tug his shirt up and gently scratch his side. He is tense and shaking but starts relaxing under your touch. You can feel his wispy breath on your neck.  
“Kar, I’m scared. I’m scared and cold.” You tighten your grip around him.  
“We’ll fix this, don’t you fucking worry, but you need to rest now. Let’s get you to coon-“  
“NO!” His teary bulbs tear gashes in your pusher. “Don’t go!”  
You adjust your position. “Alright, come here.”  
Eridan moves closer and leans his pan on your chest. “I can’t let him see me like this. He can’t know!”  
You sigh and close your bulbs. “Okay, we will get some rest first, and we can think of what to do tomorrow.” You gently stroke his hair. “He won’t see the feathers in the sopor. Come on. You need to rest.” He nods, wobbles out of the trap and carefully steps around the broken glass. You follow suit and close the doors behind you, hoping that Seahorsedad won’t notice the mess before you leave. You turn away and let Eridan unclothe and get into the coon. Once he does, you carry a chair over to his coon, sit next to him, and take his frond in yours. “There. I won’t go anywhere.”

You can see that Eridan is avoiding your gaze. He speaks up after a while.

“Kar?”  
“Yeah?”  
“Why are you doin’ all of this for me?”  
You sigh with the mildest annoyance. “Well, when one of your friends doesn’t respond for hours and is known to excel at reckless shit, you gotta get his ass in line. Make sure he doesn’t get himself killed or kill others.” You know how that sounded. Eridan knows it too. He squeezes your frond and says nothing. You turn to the side and close your bulbs.  
_Emotions are bullshit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive!  
> Apologies for updating nearly a week later than I thought I would - I had the worst writer's block and kept redoing and rewriting this chapter!
> 
> Alternative title: Karkat futilely knocks on doors for an entire chapter
> 
> "Kar?"  
> "Oh my GOD Eridan. Go to sleep."  
> "Kar, what are we?"  
> "A couple of fucking idiots, that's what."


	10. Angels, Angry and Awakened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Blood, death, some gore

> KARKAT: DOZE OFF.

You shuffle a bit and stretch. The chair you’re sitting on is cushioned and comfortable (of course it is, it’s Ampora we’re talking about) but you are still growing a bit numb. Regardless, you keep holding Eridan’s frond.

_How the fuck do we even begin to fix this shit? If the angels did this, they should be the ones to undo it, but what guarantees that they won’t just turn us into a puddle of guts the moment they get their chance? Even if they don’t, what am I supposed to do? Shout around LOWAA like a nutcase, hoping that an angel mercifully swoops down and undoes this bullshit from the goodness of their pusher?_

Eridan shuffles in his sleep. You wish that his calm face and the feeling of his cold skin calmed you down, but they only bring up a different set of issues that you decide not to think about now.  
And then you think about them anyway.

You are pale for him, but is it wise to tie yourself to him in any way? You think you understand Feferi a tad better after all of this – to say that Eridan is a handful is an understatement. Still, when you look at him sleeping like this, you can’t bring yourself to resent him. You can tell how starved he is for genuine care and companionship, and the thought of finally seeing him happy, _truly_ happy, makes you warm on the inside. Still, can you be a good moirail? Eridan mentioned that he’s studying for the Academy, a prestigious calling for only the best of the highbloods. Will you ruin his future by associating your mutant self with him?

You curl up your nubs to your chest. Everything sucks right now and you have no idea how to handle any of it. It seems laughable to you that anyone comes to _you_ for advice when the number of times when you had your shit together equals the number of times when life didn’t choose to flip you off with both fronds (that would be zero).

Slowly, in the silence of Eridan’s block and with his cold touch keeping you grounded, your bulbs flutter shut. You lean your pan on your nubs and drift off.

_______________________________________________________________________________

> ERIDAN: LISTEN.

You dare to peek out of your coon. You’re not sure, but you think that Karkat has finally fallen asleep. He hasn’t moved in a while, and his breathing is even and rhythmical. You slowly lift your pan, checking if Karkat will reprimand you, but he stays silent. _Whew._

You could swear that your body is colder than usual. If it’s any indication, Kar’s touch feels like a burning flame of a hearth on your cold skin. You haven’t been able to sleep at all because you’re afraid of drifting off into unconsciousness. You don’t want to have any more weird spacey baloney daymares, and you’d also rather not risk hurting Karkat.

You set out to LOWAA convinced that you had nothing to lose, but now you realise that you’ve made a grave mistake, because one Karkat Vantas does care, and some of your friends probably do, too. Your name is ERIDAN AMPORA, and it seems that making mistakes is what you do best, but you’ll be damned if you let Karkat endanger himself after all he’s done for you. You’d give everything you own to turn back time and invite him over, not to save your ass, but just to hang out and talk about dumb shit. Maybe you would have been better friends, maybe even moirails. It’s too late for that now, though. You should probably go to LOWAA and…

and… huh?

You blink. What were you thinking about, again?

You look around. Were you asleep just then? You absentmindedly scratch the back of your arm. You can’t tell from sopor, but it feels like the feathers have grown aplenty there. You shudder thinking what you must look like, but you’re also quite curious. Slowly, slowly, you let go of Karkat’s frond and place it in his lap. When he doesn’t stir, you exit the recuperacoon and tiptoe to the ablutionblock to check yourself out. You also grab your palmhusk because the ablutionblock light would probably wake up Karkat. You waltz inside and gasp as your strutpod slips and hits the trap. You grab onto the sink for balance and whisper a string of profanities as you straighten up. _Right, I spilt and broke a few things when I went into the ablutionblock earlier last night and saw my reflection. Forgot about that._

You activate your palmhusk and aim it at the mirror, and then at yourself. It’s nearly impossible to discern anything like _where is Ahab’sCrosshairs_ this but you can see that your skin is all lumpy. _Ugh, when this is all over, I need to get some good lotion ASAP._

_Wait. What?_

You blink a few times and rub your bulbs. You feel lightheaded and it’s hard to concentrate. _Could be from all the stress I’m goin’ through, in which case I need lotion **and** a vacation. Maybe I could go with Karkat, to pay him back for all a the support?_ You’re not sure where he’d like to go, but you th _Ahab’s Crosshairs where is it where is it w̴h̵e̶r̷e̶ ̶i̶s̷ ̵i̶t̵ ̴W̵H̸E̸R̵E̷ ̸I̴_

You get out of the ablutionblock and head downstairs. Ahab’s Crosshairs are in their chest, right where you left them. Good thing, because you need to _kill_ go feed Feferi’s lusus sometime. You mount it on your back. You’re not sure why, but the moment you do, you stop feeling the need to question it.

_spread misery prince of darkness kill maim wound feed us feed us f e e d_

Your pusher starts racing like in the state of highblood rage. You glance back at the Crosshairs. _I miss the chase and the adrenaline of a good hunt. Why am I not doing it right now?_ The memory of the scent of blood makes you shiver. _I was hatched for this._

You head up the zigzag incline with absolute determination.

_______________________________________________________________________________

> KARKAT: ??????

You stir awake and feel how warm your frond is. _Eridan is gone!_ You turn around and see him standing next to the bookshelf, wearing his pants and shoes but no sweater. He is putting it on at the moment, in fact, while facing away from you.

“Eridan? Where the fuck are you going?”

Eridan straps Ahab’s Crosshairs to his back and looks at you with a fierceness you haven’t seen since you argued in LOWAA. “Hunting.”

“This is no time for jokes you tuna-brained idiot, we need to-“  
Your voice dies in your throat.

Eridan is growling at you and reaching back for Ahab’s Crosshairs. You are frozen to the chair. He holds Crosshairs in his left frond and approaches you. His bulbs have a strange shine to them, leaving white wisps behind. _I am so, very, incredibly fucked. He looks like he’s a party lusus itching to snap something and my neck is a fucking glowstick._ You lean away from him as he approaches, pinning yourself to the back of the chair.

“Steer clear from me and go hive, Kar. There’s nothing left for you here.”  
Before you even get a chance to respond, he leaves through the hidden bookshelf doors and closes them behind him.

_______________________________________________________________________________

> ERIDAN: THE HUNT BEGINS.

 _They think they’ve had the best a me. Ha! They must have forgotten who they’re dealin’ with._ You enter the tower, drawing the memory of Feferi out. How she told you that both she and Karkat messaged you, and how the angels had you convinced that no one cared to corner you into accepting to be their little errand troll. You feed off of your own memory, the deep hatred in your pusher opening like a chasm. It completely overrides the other voice, filling your ears with the sound of rushing blood. _I’m a prince, and I’m about to remind them how to treat one._

You stand at the bottom of the spiral zigzag incline and look up. You don’t feel like climbing, but if your hunch is right, you won’t have to. Your strutpods leave the ground and a pleasant shiver runs through you as you soar up through the middle. _This is infinitely faster than climbin’ – it even beats ridin’ Seahorsedad._ The memory of him bites into your pusher, so you shove it aside. You can sense LOWAA nearing you and you’re itching for revenge.

You drift through the portal and stop in LOWAA, hovering. You were looking forward to soaring through LOWAA’s sky, but you can’t seem to hover more than a few metres above the ground. _Nevermind._ Your sharpened senses pick up something moving and you set off. You put Ahab’s Crosshairs at the ready and notice the feathers growing in front of your bulbs, covering your arm until no grey skin can be seen.

You squint into the distance and see a lone angel, hovering over a graveyard. You can’t wait to test your new body out. Since you didn’t take your glasses, you resort to moving in the shadows until you approach close enough. Once it’s right in front of you, you fire at its wings, burning a hole straight through. The angel lets out a shriek and turns to you, but that’s exactly what you wanted. You leap against a wall and straight at it, sinking your teeth into its throat. You miss slightly on the account of your bad eyesight, but it does the trick. The angel scratches your back and squirms for a few moments, and then it falls limply to the ground. You wipe your mouth and grin. _Grub’s play._

_______________________________________________________________________________

> KARKAT: FREAK OUT, LIKE, A LOT.

THANK YOU, PROMPTER! NEVER WOULD HAVE I THOUGHT OF THAT MYSELF! HOW ABOUT YOU NUDGE ME TOWARDS THE SOLUTION TO THIS BULLSHIT WHILE YOU’RE AT IT, OH GREAT ONE! MAYBE BE USEFUL FOR A CHANGE? SILENT, HUH? THAT’S WHAT I FUCKING THOUGHT. 

Okay, sheesh.

> KARKAT: FREAK OUT BUT ALSO ACT.

You check whether your sickles are equipped and go. There’s no time to change your clothes or for anything else. You only grab Eridan’s cape from the coat hanger on the way out, to keep you warm if needed.

You are worried that Eridan will get himself killed. He looked out of his pan, and you know that he’s the kind of troll to bite off more than he can chew. You consider calling for help but immediately reject the idea. Not only would it take too long for anyone to arrive, but you would bear the responsibility if Eridan killed them in this state. You already feel guilty for not being there for Eridan more in the past and not preventing this somehow.

As you unlock the bookhive, you feel a presence behind you. Before you even manage to turn around, Seahorsedad glides past you and into the bookhive. You run after him and jump on him, but there’s no saddle or reins. You expect him to throw you off or fight you, but he pays you no mind, darting for the tower and snorting. You wonder if he can sense that Eridan is in trouble and tightly hug him around his neck as he ascends the tower.

You arrive to LOWAA a minute later and brace for the portal. Your insides lurch as you pass through, worsened by the speed at which Seahorsedad is moving. You close your bulbs and fight the motion sickness, hoping that he knows where he’s going, because you sure as fuck don’t. After a few agonizing moments, you open your bulbs and scan the land. It’s eerily silent and you feel vulnerable to the point where you almost forget that you’re looking for Eridan, not running away from him.

A black dot on the horizon draws your attention. It’s a pile of some sort, you think, squinting. _Ash, maybe, or rubble from an old church?_ You get close enough and clasp a frond over your mouth, seriously threatening to throw up this time. They are corpses, angel corpses piled high, wings poking out of the pile at odd angles. You want to believe that Eridan has nothing to do with this, but precise, circular holes on the bodies and the stench of burnt flesh scream laser wounds. _Fuck, we need a plan!_

The need for a plan both increases and decreases as you see Eridan gliding towards you, a freshly killed angel in his clutches. He is completely covered in feathers save for his face, which now sports glowing white eyes and even pointier teeth. He is limply floating through the air, adorned with a pair of monstrous wings but not using them, and seems to be deep in thought (if he’s even still capable of that). When Seahorsedad charges towards him with a wailing neigh, you lose your grip and scream, toppling off and rolling backwards onto the ground.

Everything unfolds in front of you in slow motion. The blow of Ahab’s Crosshairs blinds you and your acid tract lurches. You fall on your knees and lose the sense of balance, the sound of the deadly ray thundering in your hear ducts. The ground shakes with a loud thud. You raise your pan after a few moments and blink away the dazzling lights only to see rivers of violet. Seahorsedad lies motionless on the ground, blood idly pooling around him and forming rivers on the uneven ground. His breathing is quick and loud. The corpse of the angel lies next to him.

You sit down and stare, first at Seahorsedad, then at Eridan. Your lips move but nothing comes out. You are numb and incapable of processing what just happened. Eridan screeches, shaking LOWAA’s dull stupor. The reality slowly sinks in and you get up, defiant and angry.

“HEY JACKASS, WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?"

Eridan looks at you and narrows his bulbs. Crosshairs are in his fronds, but he doesn’t move to attack. You decaptchalogue his cape and lift it up for him to see. “DO YOU FUCKING REMEMBER ME?”

Eridan swoops down and lands next to you. You jump back, ready to retaliate, but Eridan puts Crosshairs on his back and stares first at you, and then at Seahorsedad’s corpse. His form is monstrous and expression stiff, but you get the impression that he is grieving. He puts his frond on Seahorsedad’s muzzle and stares down at the wound. After a few tense moments of immobile silence, you step forward, and Eridan turns to you.

His voice is raspy and croaking – you think that he may have called your name. You recognise a glint of old Eridan in there, but you’re not completely sure if he recognises _you_ anymore. Shaking, you cup his face and pap him. He puts his frond over yours and closes his bulbs, leaning into the touch.

_______________________________________________________________________________

> ERIDAN: REGAIN A HINT OF CONSCIOUSNESS.

His palm is warm on your cheek, almost foreign. You have been so cold. You put your frond, now feathered and monstrous, over his and close your ganderbulbs. You enjoy this rare moment of clarity until the warmth starts fading away. You know that his frond is still there and that it’s your second nature, the one you stupidly bargained for, that’s taking over you and drowning out the pleasant warmth. You stretch your wings and look up. They’re almost here.

You try to say something, but it comes out unintelligible. You strain yourself and try again.  
“Need to… leave… now.” 

You can sense the angels soaring in a choir towards here, responding to your challenging cry. They might not hurt Karkat. You, on the other hand… You cast a backwards glance at Seahorsedad and clench your teeth.

“Don’t you FUCKING dare leave again!” You turn back to stare at Karkat. His words shake you to your core… “Eridan.” …but they do nothing to silence the monstrous call inside of you. You have to go.

“Sorry… You will get hurt.”

You look at Seahorsedad and then at Karkat, one last time. You quickly cup his face and kiss him on the head, giving in to your old desire, and before he has a chance to say anything, you take off into the skies. You shriek and fly in the opposite direction, leading the angels away from him. Your pusher feels like it’s gonna break into a thousand pieces until you smell blood, and then you feel nothing anymore except an insatiable thirst for revenge.

_Time to break up this choir and pick them off, one by one._

_______________________________________________________________________________

> KARKAT: CRASH AT THE OLD CHURCH.

Your cover your face. _This isn’t happening. It can’t be._  
_How did we both manage to fuck up so colossally?_

The church you’re in is just as cold as it was before, except last time Eridan was there. Teary, cut up, scared, an idiot, but still Eridan. You tug his cape tighter around you, but it does nothing to soothe the trembling inside. _What the fuck am I going to do?_

Despite your fear, it still took you a few minutes to leave the place. You regret not being able to bury Seahorsedad for Eridan, but you think that he wouldn’t want him buried here anyways. Still, it felt wrong to just… leave him there. Just like last time.  
_What the fuck am I going to do?_

You seriously consider going back; everything in this land wants to kill you, you’re useless, and you’ll be extra useless if you’re dead. However, there’s a part of you that knows that the moment you would step out of the portal, you would condemn him to whatever the fuck it is that he’s turning into. He could die or be stuck like this forever. _Would I be able to live with that?_

 _Okay, no. No, we’re not fucking doing that. Think, Vantas, think._ You jot down your thoughts on your palmhusk until an idea pops in your mind, with a metaphorical light bulb above your pan and all.  
_Eridan said that the angels ate his fears or whatever. Maybe they would take mine?_

You hum. It’s a stretch, but it might be worth a shot. If all else fails, you can always run back to the portal. With Eridan on his murder spree, the angels will probably not be too eager to follow you. You hope.

_______________________________________________________________________________

> ERIDAN: F̴̱͓̹͔̠͙̲͎͈̈̇͌́̎̂̒͐͘͜͝͠ͅͅͅḬ̵̛̝̮̜̎̆͊̿̊̓̌̓̈͝Ġ̵̢̳͙̞͕̬̫͓̙͎̝̄̉͆̆ͅͅH̷̡̨̢͕̥̦̝͖͉͖͇͓̗̳̾͛̈̈̋T̸͓͎̈́̿͒ ̵̨͍̟̙̹̹̞͍͈͔̖̎̄̿̇̀͘Ţ̶̢̥̼̜̮͔̫̎̃̅͗̽̾͂̍͐͜͜͝H̶̡̺̟͓̝̪̹̼̮͉̜̘͕̺̾̄Ȩ̷̛̹̣̱̖̗͖̯̬̮͔͎̮͗̽̄̽̀͛͑̈́ ̶̢̡̭͔͔͔̖̳̱̬̺͎̪͛͗̏ͅU̸͍͔̭̣̺̝̹̙̞͘͝R̶̨̻̫̲̮̎̅̎G̷̖̺͛̒̾̋̉̒̅̽̓͆͜͠Ẻ̵̡̧͔̼͈͖̱͇͉̣̞̣̣͋

ļ̸̛̥̪̬͖̠̥͙͕͓̤̗̰͖̝̬̯̫͉̯͙̮̱̽̅̅͌͒͛̀͒̐̏͗͊͐̓̉̅͂̎̔̂̿̄͊̚̚͘̕͝ͅd̸̨̢̬̝͉͙̝͎̝̹̣̱̙̟̣̞̳̦̲̼͉̙̃̅͆̂̅ͅͅc̵̛̜̈́̑͒̽̆͗͗͊̓̂̀̉̾̚ȍ̷̡̢̡̨͕̦͚͎̻̠̖̠͉̫̹̭͖͍̝̙̋͛̀͂̄́͠ͅl̴̨̧̛̛̠̬̲͖̗̗̞̘̹̼͔͖̜͓̣̙͎̝͕̳͎̣͖̜̐̆͊̄͛̓̐͛͒̌̄̂̔̊̌̐͂̽̕͝͝͝͝͠ͅd̵̨̧̟͙̻̻̩͖͎̣̤̹͙̪̩̮͕̰͔̦͓̥̜̄̈̎̍̽͒̊̄͋̿́̀͑̒̒̍͛͑̒̇̋̿̐͌̕͘͠͠ͅc̸̛̯͈͖̬̬̦̈́̌͊̈́̉͐̇̌̄̃͊̔̈́̅͑̑̒̒̑̈́͗͆͆̎̉̅̄o̵̧̢̗̗̹̘̱̞̜̭̥̳͍̟̱͓͙͔̦͈̩̙͙͍̭̭̬̞̬̿̉̑̉́̅̚ͅļ̴̛͉̻͙̟̉̆͑̇͊̍̄̂̋͌̒̿̓̾̓̃̀̋͂̔͜͝͝͝d̷̤̹̯̃͌̏͐̉̓͐̓̏̅̈̉̓͗̐͋̾̾͒̎̏̾̿͌̈́̓͌̕͠͠͠c̷̢̧̨̙̹̺̟̹̭̺̼̙̺͙̞̲̞͎̱̗̼̱̱͛̐̈͗́̈͛̓̓̔́̀̈͘̚ͅǫ̴̡̨̹̮͚̹̩͕̟̙̤̼̖͔̦͔̲̤͓̳̹͔͍̰̪͍͎̹̭̀́̅̏̄͗̊̽̋̂͌͛̔͑̎̕ͅl̶̨͔̝̳͇͈̘͈͕̝̟̜̼̥͚̲̙͙̪̘̟̈́̿̇͂͌̈́̇ḑ̷͈̖̖̟̥̜̬̤̦͓͇̖͇͑̅̓̓̃̍̋̚̚̚̕c̴̙̗̘̺̝̫̬͇̩̯͓̬̩̈̀͗̇̒͋̇͐̔͊̏̿̈́̃̊̋͒͌͂͐̆͗̇͛͊ơ̴̢̫͚̭̬̺̟̖͎̈́̅̉͒͂̿͗̑̾̈́͌͛̊̄̈́̌̏̍̄̂̔̈́̾̿̇͘͝l̶̛̙͌̂̈́̈́͛̒̈́̌̿̎̅̈͛͊͋͒̆̒̀̓̈́̽̕

Yeah, I don’t think that this will work. I’ll do it instead.

Eridan is determined to rule over LOWAA as a sole prince with no subjects. His first order of business is bringing that to fruition by murdering anything that moves, breathes, or both. He can hear the little voice at the back of his pan screaming at him, but that voice is nothing more than a whisper when pitted against the murderous drive the angels installed in him and his natural highblood rage. To an extent, it even feels good – instead of letting life kick him down, he’s the one doing the kicking. It feels righteous. When his resolve wavers and his instincts give way to doubt, he simply thinks back to the mindless torture and the smugness of angels, and the instincts take the wheel again.

However, even his pool of hatred isn’t bottomless, and the high slowly starts fading away. Vengeance, adrenaline, and fun turn into a mindless chore of tearing through screeching angels. He starts being reckless, attacking whole choirs instead of singling them out and fighting them one on one. A particularly ill-picked fight leaves his left wing torn and his chest bloody. Fighting the urge to charge back in, he retreats to a church and settles on the lip of a fountain inside.

With the last tinges of highblood rage leaving him, consciousness starts seeping in, bringing back the memories with it. Realising what he had done, he sprints outside, averting his gaze from any reflective surface. Even with the additional stamina this form gives him, it still takes him about thirty minutes until he reaches him. He sits down and puts Seahorsedad’s pan in his lap. His thoughts aren’t quite his anymore and everything feels fuzzy, but the shivers of guilt and regret don’t escape him. They’ve had their differences and Seahorsedad’s wronged him, but he was still his lusus and caretaker. With no one around, he thanks Seahorsedad and hugs him one last time. As he carries his body back to the church, he thinks of Karkat and hopes that he took his advice and left.

_______________________________________________________________________________

KARKAT: DO NOT TAKE HIS ADVICE.

You decisively head to the church. You feel like you have to do something, anything.

As you step inside, you scream for the angels to come out and prepare your sickles. Your voice dully echoes and bounces off of the walls, and it takes a few moments before they start manifesting. They file in from behind the tapestries and under floorboards until the block is full of them. You can sense their hostility and waves of nauseating heat pulsing from them. They swirl like a mirage and eye you distrustfully.

“What do you want?” – hisses an angel, darting at you and stopping mere centimetres away from your face. “This is not your land. You do not belong here!”  
“I want to make a deal.” You do your best to maintain bulb contact, if what these things have could even be considered bulbs. You nervously clench your sickles. There are more angels than you thought, way more. You’re not even sure if you could make it out of the doors without getting torn to shreds.  
The angel drifts back, looking you over. “And what could you possibly offer us?”  
“I’ll give you what you took from Eridan. You can have my fears.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're officially nearing the end of this fanfic! If you have any thoughts you'd like to share, feel free to comment below!  
> Thank you once again for your continuous support! It means a lot to me! ^^


	11. Deadly Dances and Second Chances

> KARKAT: NEGOTIATE.

The angel looks you over. It is distrustful, and you fear that it will refuse your offer. The block fills with the incomprehensible chatter of other angels. 

“Bah” – the angel scoffs, looking down on you – “and what makes you think we want your fears? Your kind is not exactly _trustworthy_.”

 _Well, shit._ There’s nothing you could tell them that would make them trust you, so you choose a different approach - and shrug.  
“Suit your own fucking selves. If you’d rather let your new _convert_ paint a pretty picture with your guts, then I guess we’re done talking.” You turn on your heels to leave, and the angel darts in front of you. You’re delighted to see it sputter.

“Now hang on a second, why the haste? Stay, maybe we can figure something out after all.”

_Got you now._

You turn around and march back inside the church. You are excited that your plan worked, but you try and not let it show. _You might still end up shish kebab’d by these freaks, idiot. Keep it together._ Once you’re in the middle, amidst all of the angels, you stop walking and begin your negotiations. The angel speaks first, gesturing at the massive statue. It represents a ring of thirteen angels, each holding the other’s tail.

“The Circle represents our existence. We provide for others, and they provide for us in turn. That is how it has been for hundreds of sweeps and continues to be.” It smirks at you. “In layman’s terms, we convert new members and gift them immense power, they make sure that we stay fed, and once they fully develop, they get tasked with finding a new convert to feed us all. That is our way. Understood?” 

You’re not sure if you’re pissed off at the history lesson or the way they’re framing it all, like it was all inevitable and Eridan is just another cog in their machine. Your fists involuntarily clench.  
“So getting murdered en masse by your convert is completely normal? Fuck, and here I thought that Eridan was an outlier.” You can feel the tension between you increase. 

“You may be unable to understand such things, but Eridan was a lucky find. Indeed, we’ve never seen someone so… _capable_.” You bristle as the angel licks its lips. “So beautifully attuned to pain and suffering, able to experience and inflict it on others with ease. He was going to be perfect, a leader one day… but the little bastard turned on us. How sad and ungrateful.” 

_Why, you shitty little…_ “Yeah, very touching. Do you want my incredibly fucked up and repressed memories or not?” You’re pushing your luck, but there’s only so much shit-talking you can take.

The angel sighs. It would roll its bulbs if it had them. “Very well, I don’t see why not. Surely you are not here out of the goodness of your pusher, though? Are you perhaps… jealous of your troll friend’s new powers?” – It asks in a teasing tone.

You laugh dryly. “Fuck no! I want you to turn Eridan back.”

The church goes silent before the murmurs pick up again. They already became background noise to you.

“To rid the convert of their newfound powers? Most unusual and unheard of.”

“To die because you’re too proud to back out of your ridiculously stupid decision? Not unusual and very fucking heard of.” 

The angel turns away and goes to discuss your proposal with others. You just stand there, waiting to hear the decision that will seal Eridan’s fate. Your composure is starting to crumble. _They didn’t say no, so that’s good, means that it’s at least possible. That’s something, I guess._ After several excruciating minutes, the angel turns back to face you with an unmistakable air of smugness. You wonder if it can tell you’re slowly losing it.

“As unusual as your proposal is, we still find it acceptable, given the situation.”

“So that’s a yes then?”

“Not so fast.” The angel drifts closer. “Given the aforementioned unusualness of the deal, we need something else in return – next to what you already offered, of course.”

“What?”

The angel fixes you with its eyeless gaze. “A distraction. We can’t turn him back if he just murders us all, can we? He might not hesitate to kill _us_ , but you…” 

It gives you a knowing look, making you very uncomfortable. _Did it guess, or does it know? Can it read my mind? Has it been doing it all along?_  
“Fine! You can have a distraction, but nothing more.”

“Do we have a deal, then?”

You stop to think it through. “How do I know that you will uphold your end of the bargain?”

“You don’t.” It laughs, even as your face contorts with anger. “But I reckon you don’t have a choice. And since we need your offerings to strip him of his blessings, you must go first. I don’t make the rules.”

“Sure as fuck you don’t” – you mutter. “Alright. What do I need to do?”

“Take a seat. We don’t want you hitting your nug and knocking yourself out cold, do we? Eridan taught us that.”

You sit down on the floor. “Let’s get this over with.”

_______________________________________________________________________________

> ERIDAN: RESIST THE URGE.

You’re TRYÏ̶̥̓Ń̸͚̓G̵̫̈́!

You wrap your arms around your pan and shield yourself with your wings, but it does little to tune out the voices in your head. You take a deep breath and curl up harder.

The closer you are to angels, the harder it is to control your urge, as if the choir is a hive mind and you are drawn to join it and obey. With the nearby choirs littering the ground, you feel nearly safe. The church you’re at is nondescript and you’re sitting on a support beam up high, in the shadow. You know that the others will find you sooner or later, though, and your rapidly changing body doesn’t really help. You lean against the wall and sigh.

You think of Karkat, Feferi, and Seahorsedad. You made some good memories with Karkat recently, and you think that he doesn’t despise you. You wish you could say the same about the other two, though - hell, you even regret not responding to Sollux. You wonder if Karkat will tell them the truth or make up something nicer than the shitty end that awaits you. 

An angel wails in the distance. _I will rather kill every last one a these slimy, abhorrent pieces a shit than let them use me! And if I have to stay here, fuck it. I don’t have a choice anyway!_

In the stagnant silence of LOWAA, you drift off into a state between being asleep and awake. You wish you thanked dad for the grubcakes. You think of the time Karkat touched your face, and of his bulbs filled with wonder upon seeing Alternia. You wish you kissed him while you were still you and not an unholy union of a cluckbeast and way too many teeth.

It takes you a moment to recognise that the warmth you’re feeling is far too vivid to just be your imagination. You open your bulbs and hastily get up. The trace of warmth is faint and far away, but you can still feel it. Your pusher flutters at the thought of Karkat before the realisation kicks in. _He could be in danger! Why didn’t he fuckin’ listen to me?_

Without a second thought, you spread your wings and dart after his warmth.

_______________________________________________________________________________

> KARKAT: ENDURE.

The slight trembling in your gut turns into an onslaught. The cork keeping all of your memories nice and tightly sealed gets tugged away, and with the _pop_ come all the things you were trying so hard not to think about. 

A choking sensation overtakes you, like an anxiety attack but a hundred times worse. The more you try to counter the incoming flashbacks, the more material you give to the angels. You crumple up and scream when you feel something cold reach into your mind and pull out Crabdad from where you carefully tucked away those memories.

All of the beautiful memories are immediately contrasted with his last moments. Watching movies with Crabdad and napping together get interrupted by his alarmed chirr and the loud footsteps of the drones. Your pusher starts beating a hundred times faster when you recall the sound of the slamming doors and the realisation that he sacrificed himself to save you. Warm tears collect in your throat as the dreaded memory of his crushed body resurfaces, followed by the modest funeral that you gave him before you moved away. All of the hateful and anxious thoughts your pan produced in the following days stab your pusher at once. 

_You can’t protect anyone. You can barely protect yourself. If you droneproofed the hive better, Crabdad would still be alive. If you were truly there for Eridan, he and Seahorsedad would still be alright. It’s your fault. It’s **all** your fault._  
You sob and cover your pan, preparing for another blow. 

Any second now.

…

Nothing. Your mind is clear. You wipe your ganderbulbs and look up. 

The angels are eerily still. Confusion and anticipation ripple through the air. A beat of silence passes… 

…and the stained window shatters inwards, raining shards of golden glass. A hideous shriek thunders amidst the chaos. You shield your face and scramble for cover. You crawl under a toppled pew bench and lift your gaze. 

Eridan is perched on top of the statue. While not significantly larger than the angels, his presence is astonishing. Your bulbs meet, and then all hell breaks loose. Eridan starts attacking the angels, knocking several to the ground. You watch him masterfully tear through them, mesmerised, before your thinkpan catches up.

_I was supposed to distract him! Fuck! If he kills all of the angels, there will be no one to turn him back! Shit shit SHIT!_

Cupping your mouth, you call for Eridan, but he either ignores you or can’t hear you. Since the situation is far from fair, you decide that fuck it, if the stakes are gonna be so fucking high, you might as well cheat a little. You dramatically get down on one knee, clutching your chest, and pretend to scream in pain. You may have sounded a bit like a barkbeast in heat and your technique could use some work, but it does the trick; Eridan stops his murder rampage and turns towards you, just for a moment – and it’s all it takes. The angels use the opportunity and dart towards him, pinning him to the wall and holding him down as he writhes and bites anything that comes too close. A couple of angels fall, but Eridan is vastly outnumbered and can’t kick down all of them. A dozen of angels hold him down in place, incapacitating his wings and limbs. One snatches Ahab’s Crosshairs away while the rest forms a circle around Eridan. The angel that you made a deal with flies to meet Eridan face to face. A gargoyle stares down at the whole scene.

_______________________________________________________________________________

> ERIDAN: LOSE YOUR GOGDAMN MIND.

You are beyond anger and rage. The angels have you pinned down and they won’t shut up. If you turn now, Karkat will be alone against this entire choir and you. You scream and curse at the asshole who did this to you in the first place. The archangel doesn’t bat a bulb.

“There is no point resisting us. You are one of us now. Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”  
You thrash, smacking an angel in the face. It’s mildly satisfying.  
“You have great potential. All you need to do is prove your loyalty to us and cut off those who hurt you”.  
You hiss and struggle to flip the archangel off, double-frond style. It is not impressed.  
“Don’t make me break you.” 

You struggle to pull your strutpod out of their grasp. A _thwock_ sounds off above you. You look up and see Karkat’s shoe falling back down and archangel’s stunned silence.  
“TURN HIM BACK NOW, YOU FETID, MAGGOTY PIECE OF SHIT, OR I WILL MASH YOU INTO PASTE” – shouts Karkat, putting his shoe back on.  
The archangel looks back at you. “Kill him. _Now._ ”

You can feel its gaze breaking your mind. You scream and kick, but control slips through your point stumps. The need to destroy and kill amplifies in your chest, setting every blood vessel on fire. You can feel the magnetic pull, the undeniable need to belong, to be one with the choir. Even when the searing pain stops, you know it’s all over for you. You look ahead, but the archangel is gone. 

Below you, Karkat is growling and brandishing his sickles. One of them is wedged deeply into the archangel’s chest. You can hear the command boom in your mind: _Destroy_. The whole choir descends on Karkat as one.

_This is all my fault._

_______________________________________________________________________________

> KARKAT: BE IN HOT WATER.

Blood rushing in your ears and the thumping of your pusher obscure all other sounds. As the angels land and surround you, you flip the other sickle and put it under archangel’s throat. If you’re going down, then you’re taking as many of these shitstains as you can down with you, starting with the asshat who tricked you.

“Order them to turn him back to normal, or I will gut you.”

The archangel grins maliciously. “I don’t think so.”

You clench the sickles when you feel a presence behind you. You keep your bulbs on the archangel, but you recognise the frond that wraps around your neck. Every breath you take is tense as you anticipate the outcome of this situation.

The archangel seems delighted by the turn of events. “How about you let me go, and I might let you live?”

You let out a low growl. “Like hell you will!”

The archangel laughs and spits blood. “You think you have a choice?” 

Your breathing turns to wheezing as Eridan’s frond clenches. You can’t take much more of this. “Eridan… don’t… do this!”

The archangel scoffs. “Pathetic. Don’t you know when to quit?”

You ignore it and turn your thinkpan slightly to face Eridan. “This isn’t… you! Fuck, you’ve done… your share… of stupid things… but I know you’d… never hurt me!”

The frond around your neck shivers, but doesn’t let you go. You want to say something else, but you can only gurgle and struggle for air. Dark spots start appearing in your vision. Your sickle clatters on the stone floor.

“Good, good” – chirrs the archangel at Eridan – “We’ll make a proper angel out of you yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > BAD END?  
> EDIT #1 (23/10/20) Tweaked some tags to reflect the fanfic better.


End file.
